The Point of No Return
by Team Damon
Summary: Six years after Voldemort's death, Hermione finds herself in a situation she'd never anticipated. But misery loves company, and her company happens to be an old school rival. Mistakes are made, and what happens when they both reach the point of no return?
1. Vodka, Scotch, & Muggle Motels

**A/N: Er... yeah. This kind of came out of nowhere, and I don't do lemons really, so it's probably horrible. But, if anyone likes it, I'll continue the story. If not I'll just make it a oneshot. Let me know! I'm going to go die of embarressment now lol**

The little bar seemed as good of a place as any to drown her sorrows. It was out of the way and probably only frequented by Muggles, and it would fulfill her desire to be unrecognized and unbothered as she mourned the end of her marriage.

Hermione Weasley, soon to be Granger again, stepped into the pub and walked straight for the bar, taking off her Muggle jacket and draping it over her lap as she took a seat on a stool. A female bartender with short, curly blonde hair approached her, cleaning a glass with a rag. "What'll it be, honey?"

Hermione looked up into the woman's surprisingly kind eyes and sighed. "Honestly... I don't even know. What's good to drink when your husband's just filed for divorce?"

The bartender grimaced. "Sorry to hear that. But I've got just the cocktail."

Hermione nodded and the woman walked away to mix up her drink. She rested her head in the palm of her hand, still in shock of the day's events. She thought everything had been going fine. She and Ron had even trying to get pregnant for the last few months, and while they'd had their rows like any couple did, she never expected this. She never expected to wake up one day to divorce papers, and Ron telling her he wasn't happy anymore. He'd said something about her being distant, and the "spark" being gone, which she very much objected to, but even if it were true, why was he just cutting and running? Why didn't he just ask her to go to marriage counseling, or at the very least talk out their problems? It was very unlike Ron, and she had no idea what to do with herself.

She hadn't told a soul about the day's events, and she dreaded having to eventually do so. She didn't want to think about her friends having to choose sides, or any of the other unpleasant side effects of a divorce. She and Ron were both famous, even still six years after the death of Voldemort, and the wizarding press would no doubt have a field day with the news.

At least, she thought bitterly, she hadn't gotten pregnant. She didn't want to bring a child into a broken home.

"Here you go, dear," the bartender said, setting a glass down in front of her.

"Thanks," Hermione nodded, staring into the clear liquid. She removed the lime wedge from the rim of the glass and brought it to her lips, only to have a voice from behind her startle her just as the bitterness reached her tongue.

"Well, well - fancy seeing you here, Granger."

She'd know that voice anywhere.

"Although I suppose it's Weasley, now?"

The stool beside her shifted, and she glanced to her left. There sat Draco Malfoy, wearing that same stupid sneering grin he did all through school, clad in a partially unbuttoned black button down shirt and black trousers, clutching a tumbler of dark amber liquid and looking as if he thought he'd just won the entertainment lottery for the night.

"Piss off, ferret."

"Oooh, feisty as ever, I see," he said gleefully. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

She rolled her eyes. "Like it's any of your business. And anyway, what are you even doing here? This is a Muggle pub."

Draco shrugged and took a sip of his drink. "Sometimes it's nice to go somewhere without everyone recognizing you. Even if they do serve piss for drinks. Know what I mean?"

Hermione didn't answer. She took her glass and downed half of the cocktail, grimacing as her throat burned afterwards. Some cocktail, she thought - it tasted like straight vodka.

"Blimey, must have been one particularly awful day," Draco drawled. "What happened - find the Weasel with another woman?"

She glared at her old classmate. "Don't. Just don't."

"I've struck a nerve," he smiled.

She sighed and finished the cocktail. Of course, she would run into Malfoy of all people tonight. It was bad enough that she had to see him occasionally at the Ministry, where he sometimes served as a consultant for the several departments due to his ties in the business world. Lucius had passed away not long after the war, leaving Draco in charge of the family business, and he'd done well for himself since then. Time had been good to him as well - he was now 23 years old, and was more handsome than ever. He and his wife were the most glamorous young couple of the wizarding world, and their wedding had been the event of the new decade, despite his being a former Death Eater. The wizarding public proved to be forgiving to him, especially after his mother's role in Voldemort's downfall became known. He normally kept to himself and to his work, but clearly tonight, he was letting himself off his leash. "Do I really have to spell it out for you that I'm in no mood to talk about it, especially to you?"

Draco shrugged, waving down the bartender. "Just trying to make friendly conversation."

Hermione scoffed. "As if you're capable of such a thing."

"Another round of drinks," Draco said to the bartender, and the woman went off to get them refills. "And I'm perfectly capable of friendly conversation. Try me."

Hermione gave him a sideways glance. "I'll need to get a lot more drunk if I'm going to do anything of the sort."

Her drink was placed in front of her as if on cue. Draco gestured to it and said, "Well, drink up, then."

"I still don't know why you're here," Hermione said after another gulp. "Why aren't you at your mansion with your wife?"

For the shortest of seconds, his eyes seemed to darken, but it was nearly indiscernible. "Tell me why you aren't at your little shack you call home with your husband and maybe I'll tell you."

Her head was starting to just barely spin, but it was enough to cause her resolve to weaken. "Probably because he doesn't want to be my husband anymore."

If she had looked at Draco, she would have seen genuine surprise flicker across his features. This was not what he'd expected to hear, clearly. "Are you joking?"

"Oh yes, I always joke about my husband wanting a divorce," she said morosely, enjoying the burn of the alcohol as it scorched her throat. It wasn't as strong as firewhiskey, but it did its job.

"And why in bloody hell would the Weasel want a divorce? Does he actually think he'd ever be able to find another woman willing to see him naked?"

She almost laughed. "He says I've become distant. Too involved with work. That I don't put him first. Oh, and that he doesn't want to have children with me unless I'd quit my job and stay home with our kids, like his mother."

Another cocktail landed in front of her, and she immediately took a large drink of it. "Which, mind you, I'm not necessarily opposed to. But it's my decision and I won't have any man telling me what to do with my life."

Draco was listening and drinking, and she felt an odd sense of relief at saying the words out loud. "And I must say, I thought we've been doing fine! I'm supportive, I do everything he asks of me, and I was under the impression that we were happy. Apparently I was wrong. "

Draco muttered something under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," Draco shrugged. "But perhaps you should consider it a blessing in disguise. After all, did you honestly really want to spend the rest of your life with an idiotic ginger git?"

"Don't talk about him like that, and yes, as it happens, I did." Hermione sighed. "I still do. This caught me completely off guard."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Then you're a fool too."

She narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

Hermione scowled and paused for a moment. "Well, I told you why I'm here. Now it's your turn. Out with it."

"I said maybe I'd tell you why I was here, not that I would," Draco smirked.

She rolled her eyes. "Prat."

"And yet you're sitting in a dirty little pub, drowning your sorrows and spilling your guts to this prat," Draco observed. "Care to explain?"

Her limbs were starting to feel heavy, and the alcohol was definitely taking effect. After finishing her third cocktail, she started laughing.

"What?"

She laughed harder.

"What's wrong with you?" Draco asked with a grin. She shook her head and clutched her side as she continued to laugh.

"It's just," she said through gasps in between her gales of laughter, "that I should be at home, with my husband, and instead, I'm sitting here getting drunk with a ferret!"

She leaned back and let out some more laughter, and Draco chuckled at her, "Didn't take long for those cocktails to go to your head, I see."

She leaned against the bar and concentrated hard on not laughing, but instead she ended up sputtering out a giggle and spit flew everywhere.

"For God's sake, Granger," Draco laughed, his own brain muddled by the scotch he'd been ingesting steadily for the last hour.

"I'm not a drinker," Hermione said, chest heaving as she recovered from her laughter. "I never drink, because it makes me act ridiculous."

Draco's eyes fell from her face to her chest as it moved up and down with her deep breaths. He managed to pry his gaze away in time before she noticed. "Actually," she continued, "Ron never lets me drink, because he said I'm 'embarrassing' when I'm drunk. Ugh, what an arse!"

Draco laughed and Hermione looked at him strangely when he did. "What?" he half-snapped.

She shook her head. "Nothing, I just don't think I've ever seen you laugh before. Well, _really_ laugh, anyway."

"I am capable of expressing normal human emotion, Granger," he muttered, "and you happen to be rather entertaining when you're pissed."

"I'm still not drunk enough," she laughed, looking to the bartender. "Another one, please!"

The bartender rolled her eyes but obliged. Hermione took a sip of her cocktail and then said, "So, ready to tell me why you're here yet?"

Draco raised an eyebrow to her. "Why so concerned?"

"I'm not. But I imagine your wife would rather you be home than here listening to a drunk girl laugh like a moron."

Draco scoffed. "That's where you're wrong."

"Trouble in paradise, then?" Hermione ventured. "Looks like Ron and I aren't the only ones."

Draco sipped his drink without a word.

"Oh, come on, it's not like I'll remember anything you tell me anyway."

Draco allowed a grin in agreement. "That's probably true. Well, I'll put it to you this way, Granger - we all need to get away from time to time."

This really didn't reveal much. Her inhibitions were nearly obliterated by now and Hermione asked, "Your marriage was arranged, wasn't it? You two probably don't even love each other."

Draco was taken aback by her bluntness for a moment. "I didn't say that."

"But everyone thinks it," Hermione said. "So is it true? Was it arranged?"

He really didn't like where this was going. "That's none of your business."

"So yes," Hermione surmised. "You know, we all deserve true love. Even obnoxious ferrets like yourself."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you presume to know what true love is?"

She thought for a moment, then burst into inappropriate laughter again. "Apparently not, now that I think of it!"

She clutched her side again and Draco couldn't help it, he laughed along with her. The scotch had gone to his head now as well, and even though their situations were utterly humorless and depressing, it felt good to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Draco reached for his drink at the same time Hermione reached for hers, and somehow their hands brushed against one another. Draco jerked his hand away awkwardly, and Hermione said, "Oooh, watch out - you don't want to get any mudblood on you!" She then started cackling again.

He shook his head and watched her laugh hysterically with a bemused expression. Then his eyes travelled to her chest again, but this time she caught him.

"Oh, bloody hell," she laughed, "Draco Malfoy's looking at my chest!"

By now people were starting to stare. "Keep your voice down, Granger, the whole city can hear you!"

"You're probably right!" she giggled, trying to catch her breath.

Draco leaned forward on the bar and grinned at her. "You're a lot more bearable when you're drunk. Who knew an actual personality lurked under there."

"You're more bearable when I'm drunk, too," Hermione retorted. "But according to Ron, I should never drink because God forbid I don't act perfect for two minutes! Ironic, too, coming from someone who works at a joke shop for a living."

A scowl replaced her smile and she glared into her empty glass. "Stupid bloody idiot. Five years and then he just decides to serve me papers out of nowhere."

Draco set down his glass. "I thought we established that, generally speaking, you're better off without the Weasel."

Hermione frowned and shook her head. "I love my husband. Even if he is a prat half the time and a terrible lover."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror and she clamped her hands down over her mouth. Draco let out his heartiest laugh yet. "Well, now this explains everything!"

Hermione felt her cheeks redden but the giggles were starting again, sneaking their way past her hands that were still covering her mouth. "Oh my God, I can't believe I just said that!"

"Ah, come now, Granger – It's no surprise. Weasley probably couldn't pleasure a woman if his pathetic life depended on it," Draco said happily. "Tell me - has he ever given you an orgasm?"

Hermione's eyes widened even more and her expression became absolutely scandalized. "I can't believe you just asked me that!"

"Don't be a prude," Draco said with a nudge to her elbow. "We're all adults here. So has he?"

"That is truly none of your business! In fact, it's nobody's business!" she sputtered.

"Well, if he did make you scream out his name in ecstasy every night, you would be defending him, wouldn't you? So I'll just assume that the answer is no, and move on to the next question - do you fake it for him? Or do you just wait until he falls asleep and take care of yourself?"

Hermione nearly spit out the sip of her latest cocktail. "Do I – oh my God! Stop asking me these questions!"

"I always knew you were a prude," Draco smirked.

"I am not a prude!" she exclaimed in a higher than normal pitch. "Not wanting to discuss sexual details with you of all people does not make me a prude!"

"No need to try to explain yourself. I actually feel a bit sorry for you. Even a prude such as yourself deserves a good, toe-curling shag. Perhaps you should take that into consideration when choosing your second husband."

Hermione whacked Draco on the arm. "Would you just stop!"

Draco shook her off and looked past her to a few patrons who were up and dancing to some Muggle pop songs that were being played, and Hermione followed his eyes. She slammed down her glass and announced, "I think I shall dance. I haven't danced in years."

She then tried to get to her feet but ended up all but tumbling off the stool. She laughed as she steadied herself and made way to join the mini-dance party, and Draco shook his head as he watched.

Her dancing was clumsy but charming, and Draco didn't take his eyes off her as she moved. Her shirt rode up her waist a bit when she raised her hands to the air, and he found himself staring at the exposed skin and had to literally shake himself to turn away.

_Merlin_, he really was drunk, he thought. He couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or not, but Granger looked so much different from their school days - she was better proportioned and her hair wasn't the wild bush it used to be. She was more refined and maturity suited her well, but she was downright gorgeous to him as she let her hair down on the dance floor.

Hermione didn't see him watching her, and didn't have the sensation of being watched at all. She was relaxed and enjoying her bittersweet moment of freedom, her heart still aching but her mind somehow rejoicing. She never realized how stifled she felt before, how restrictive her marriage had seemingly been - tonight, she felt free, and just the simple act of dancing in a pub whilst drunker than she'd possibly ever been in her life was impossibly invigorating.

Just as she became fully caught up in the exhilaration, she lost her footing and stumbled backwards, falling hard on her bum. She laughed and announced, "I'm so drunk!"

Then hands were helping her back to her feet, and leading her away from the laughing strangers she'd been dancing next to. "I think you've had enough fun," Draco said, setting her back on the stool.

"Rubbish! That's exactly the problem, I never have fun! I work all day, come home and take care of Ron, fall asleep and repeat everything the next day. I barely even see Ginny anymore! I haven't had a girls' night in months! But you know what?" She lifted her drink and focused her blurry eyes on her amused drinking buddy, "That stops tonight! I'm going to start having fun, and if it happens to be without Ron, so be it! So he doesn't want me anymore - so what? I'm Hermione Granger! I helped win a bloody war! I deserve an amazing bloody life!"

Draco polished off his drink and nodded with a snort.

"And you know what else?" she slurred, getting to her feet again. "My new amazing life is going to start with - ahhhhhh!"

Her legs had apparently turned to jelly and as soon as she put any weight on them, she started to fall face first. But Draco caught her, and she clutched on to his collar as she laughed hysterically once more.

"Alright," he grinned, "let's get you home before you crack open your skull."

Hermione continued to laugh as Draco led her out of the building, clutching her upper arm to support her, but he tripped over his own feet not three steps into the parking lot.

"You're drunk," Hermione giggled.

"Well spotted, genius. Come on, I'll Apparate us to your house."

"Are you mad? We'll get splinched so bad we'll never walk again!" Hermione protested.

"Well what do you suggest then? We both have to get back home."

"Well spotted, genius," Hermione retorted with a giggle. "There's a motel across the street."

Draco glanced across the street at the run down looking little building and turned back to her, incredulous. "You can't be serious!"

"_You can't be serious_," Hermione mocked in a slurring and overly low-pitched voice. "Come on, we'll sleep it off and Apparate home in the morning."

Draco cursed as they crossed the street, nearly getting hit by cars a few times and each time laughing stupidly with Hermione over it, and then a moment later they were at the front desk of the motel.

"Hi, we're drunk and we need rooms," Hermione loudly proclaimed to the squat, balding man at the desk.

"Only got one room," the man grunted.

"Well fine, whatever, the git can take the floor then," Hermione muttered, pulling out some Muggle money from her pockets and throwing it all at the man.

The man gave her back a few bills and then rummaged around for a room key. When it was securely in her possession, she turned and found Draco grasping the switch of a lamp, staring at the thing like it was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

"Er, Malfoy-"

"I've always wondered how these things work - I mean there's no fire, so how is there light?" he slurred.

"Electricity," Hermione laughed, ignoring the strange looks from the man at the desk. "Come on, I've got us a room."

Reluctantly he tore himself away from the apparently riveting lamp, and together they stumbled down hallways and laughed until they reached room 215, by which point Draco was cackling uncontrollably about something (Hermione had no idea what) and Hermione was struggling just to stay upright. She withdrew the credit card-like key from her pocket and fumbled with it for a few moments. When it finally worked she stumbled inside and Draco followed just behind her, and when she paused to reach for the light switch, he didn't stop walking and he ran straight into her. Hermione toppled over along with Draco and fell into the room just after she managed to turn the light on, and they both broke out into new laughter as they found themselves tangled together on the floor.

Draco was on top of Hermione and he could barely lift his head up, and Hermione's hands were on his shoulders, pushing him gently. "Get off me!" she squeaked in between giggles. "This looks so wrong!"

"Who cares, nobody can see us," Draco said, breathing in the scent of her neck.

"I care! Let me up!"

Draco grinned and rolled away from her, then got to his feet with great effort. He extended a hand to her and she stood up with his support, but she looked at him curiously when he didn't release her hand. He looked her directly in the eyes and she felt instantly unnerved by his silver orbs, but when she turned away and tried to retrieve her hand she found herself suddenly spun and shoved against the wall.

"Wh - what are you doing?" Hermione asked nervously, daring to look up into his eyes once more.

"Something really stupid," he replied in a low voice. Then he gave her one of the biggest shocks of her life and kissed her.

Hermione froze and it took a moment for her to register the fact that Draco Malfoy was actually kissing her. It was such a laughable, bizarre thought, and she would have thought she was having some odd drunk dream if not for the heat that suddenly began coursing through her veins when his tongue gently eased into her mouth. He tasted like scotch and felt amazing, somehow controlled and smooth despite his altered state.

His hands were on her hips and hers were clutching his shoulders when he pulled away. "I'm... I'm married," she gasped.

"So am I," he muttered. "So what?"

_So what_? It was a ludicrous question, but the way he was looking at her made her mind go terribly blank. "Your husband wants out and my wife doesn't care what I do so long as she has my money. Why pretend we're happy if we're not? Would we be here if we were?"

Hermione felt a twinge of pain at his words. She'd nearly forgotten the broken state of her heart until now. Anger quickly followed the pain, and her pulse quickened when Draco's hands rose to gently cradle her face.

Maybe Draco was right. So she was still married, still in love with her husband, still a Ministry official, and still far too smart for a drunken mistake like this. So what? Where did any of that get her? This was the first night she'd had any fun and felt alive in longer than she cared to admit, and to be honest, she just didn't feel like stopping this mistake from happening.

Draco kissed her once more, and she kissed him back this time. Heat exploded within her once more at his touch, and her drunken mind achieved a bit of clarity with the sensation. She hadn't felt like this in a long time - perhaps never - and then his hands were sliding down to her bum, then back up again, finally settling on her waist. He was kissing her hard and fast, and then his lips drifted to her neck, and her entire body tingled at the contact. He kissed, nipped and licked her sensitive neck like Ron never did, and she felt alive again, alight with passion she never even realized had been missing.

Spurred by a burst of drunken, aroused courage, Hermione grabbed Draco by his collar and pushed him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the bed in the center of the room, and she moved to straddle his lap, all the while never breaking their kiss.

She felt him grin against her mouth and then he pulled away, murmuring, "You didn't take a lot of convincing."

"Shut it," she answered, making impressively quick work of undoing the buttons of his shirt for being as drunk as she was. He let her then tear the shirt away from him and he pulled her own shirt over her head, then grabbed her and pushed her down on the bed. He pressed down against her and she tugged on his blonde locks, biting his lower lip when he tried to pull away. He grinned and pulled down the straps of her bra, saying, "You're not like I thought you'd be."

"Told you I'm not a prude," she said, raising her knee and using it to rub against the bulge in his trousers. She caught a glimpse of his fading Dark Mark on his left forearm, but she quickly looked away. In her current state, even Voldemort's tattoo couldn't disturb her lust.

He let her rub against him for a moment, then made a growling-like sound and then her bra was off in a flash. Things happened quickly from there, and the next moment they were both entirely disrobed, and Draco grabbed both of her wrists with one hand and pinned them above her head to stifle her efforts to overcome him. He looked her over appreciatively, enjoying the current view, and kissed her once more before saying, "Be a good little witch, Hermione."

Her name had never sounded so sexy on a man's tongue before. She grinned at him but then his free hand found the most sensitive nub on her body, and she couldn't control the cry that came from her lips. She arched into him and her fingers tightened against his back, and she gasped in disbelief of what his hand was doing to her. When Ron did this, she didn't feel much - his fingers were big and clumsy, unlike Draco's more slender, clearly experienced ones, and they seemed to fit her in ways Ron's never did.

Within only moments she was writhing into his palm and about to fall off the edge, but then he stopped, and she almost cried in frustration. "Draco!"

He grinned. "Your first orgasm by a man is going to be better than that," he said dangerously, and then his lips were trailing down her neck to her collarbone, and on to her breasts. Her head hit the pillow and she moaned when his mouth found her nipple, and the tension down below became almost too much to bear, but he took his time lavishing his tongue upon her mounds until she was moving against him so desperately he thought she might injure him if he kept her waiting any longer.

There was the briefest loss of contact, and then his lips were on her inner thigh. She moaned again and gripped the sheets, tensing as his tongue found its way to the place she wanted it the most, and when he finally made it there and flicked his tongue on to her, she grabbed his hair and arched again, groaning nonsensical words as his tongue picked up where his fingers left off.

Ron had tried this a few times, but it just had never really worked the way it was supposed to. However, this time, with this man, she was quite sure she'd never felt anything so good in her life. The moment that finished her off was when she looked down and he looked up at the same time, and when their eyes locked, a sudden spasm of intense pleasure gripped her and her head fell back once more, and her voice filled Draco's ears as it cried with the joy of her first orgasm ever given to her by a man.

She slumped against the bed, her head spinning and chest heaving, barely noticing as Draco kissed his way up her body. She was utterly satisfied, but she remembered that he wasn't when his rock hard erection brushed against her thigh.

His lips found hers. "See what you've been missing?" he murmured.

"I didn't even know I could feel like that," she said, still struggling to catch her breath. He smirked and she didn't even have the energy to be annoyed with him.

"It's not over yet, Granger."

And it wasn't. Draco massaged her breast with his learned hands and teased her tongue with his own, and within minutes, she was throbbing between her legs again. When she started writhing against him, he took position over her and brushed against her entrance with his aching member. She slid her legs open further, and with a groan of relief, he plunged inside her.

It didn't hurt like it did with Ron oftentimes - his fingers weren't the only part of him that was overly large, and it was impossible to get used to. But Draco seemed to fit just right, and after a few strokes, her eyes widened. "Oh!"

"What?"

"This feels... _good_."

He grinned and kissed her. "It's supposed to."

But this felt _really_ good - he was hitting a spot within her that Ron's pounding had never penetrated. After a moment she grabbed his shoulders and managed to change their position, and as she started to ride him, he hit the spot even better, and she was moaning once again.

Draco sat up and took one of her breasts in his mouth, and they found their rhythm easily. She rode him harder and harder, getting closer to her second climax, and he held her close, gently biting her very erect nipple and tugging it maddeningly with his teeth. It was all she needed to achieve her second orgasm, and he lost it as soon as her moans rang out once more. He normally wasn't one to moan himself, but he was far too drunk to care, and she had shagged him far too well, so he went ahead and cried out with her.

Afterwards, Hermione dropped her head on to Draco's shoulder, eyes closed and breath ragged, and after a moment, they fell down to the bed still tangled in one another.

Their heavy eyes found one another and Draco pushed her hair behind her ear. "You're beautiful."

She snorted. "You're drunk."

He grinned. "You're still bloody sexy. Don't know when that happened."

Even in her post-sex, still drunken haze, she still felt herself blush at his words. "I hope I remember this in the morning."

He grinned and closed his eyes. "I'm not easy to forget."

She shook her head with a small smile and also closed her eyes. She had a feeling he was right.


	2. The Morning After

**A/N: what an awesome response to my random little plot bunny! Thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted. Not sure where I'm going to take this story, but that's half the fun! Let me know what you guys would like to see happen! :D**

It wasn't the rays of sun filtering in through the window or the sound of cars whooshing by on the street outside that woke Hermione the next morning. She would have slept soundly through that Saturday morning if not for the arm that flung itself across her waist and the distinct firm poke she felt being pushed into her thigh.

"Ron... let me sleep..."

She felt the chuckle as well as heard it. "Guess again, Granger."

Her eyes burst open and she squinted against the bright light of the room. She looked down at the arm around her waist and saw black ink peeking out from its forearm, and she quickly flipped herself around.

"Morning," Draco said, raising his eyebrows. "You don't happen to have any hangover potion on you, do you?"

She opened her mouth and sat up in the bed, stifling a gasp when the sheet covering her fell and exposed her bare chest. She quickly snatched the sheet back up and closed her eyes against the sudden pounding in her head, and tried hard to remember the previous day's events and why in the world she was naked in bed with Draco Malfoy.

She looked down at the two sparkling diamond rings on her left hand and her heart sank as she recalled Ron handing her divorce papers the day before. She also remembered going to a bar to drown her sorrows, and she glanced over to the blonde man sharing her bed.

He smirked at her and ran a hand through his ruffled hair. She had to admit, he looked absolutely delectable like this - naked, barely covered by a sheet, hair tousled, relaxed - but in the light of the morning, she was horribly disappointed with what she'd done. Even though it had been the most utterly amazing sex of her life.

She felt tears sting her eyes and she wrapped the sheet around herself before getting out of the bed and picking her clothes off the floor. She heard Draco's voice distantly but the tears were coming now and she couldn't understand what he was saying as she rushed to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and dropped her clothes, walking to the sink and gripping its edges as she cried.

Hermione felt completely rotten, like a a stranger to herself - it didn't matter that Ron had served her papers yesterday. She was still married, and this made her a cheater. And if that wasn't bad enough, she'd chosen _him_ to cheat with. What was she thinking? What part of any of this had seemed like a good idea last night?

The pounding in her head came to a peak and a wave of nausea overcame her. She moved to the toilet and dry heaved some, unable to produce anything from her empty stomach, and slid down to the cold floor when her gag reflex relaxed.

Hermione buried her head in her hands and allowed herself to feel pathetic for a moment before she realized that no amount of self-loathing was going to change the past.

She took a deep breath and pushed past the terrible ache in her head and stomach as she stood up and dressed. Yes, she had screwed up, and yes, she had been very stupid, but there was no changing it now. Now she just had to think of a cover story for Ron, who was no doubt sitting at home wondering where she was. He probably Flooed Ginny and Harry to see if she was with them when she didn't come home last night, and knowing the three of them, they were probably all convinced of the worst by now.

She decided to tell them the truth. She would tell them she went to a Muggle bar, got drunk, and decided to crash at a motel rather than risk splinching by Apparating home drunk. She would just leave out the fact that Malfoy had shagged her senseless and that she'd loved every second of it.

She shuddered involuntarily and shook her head. She would just have to forget about that part of last night, as impossible as it seemed.

She walked out of the bathroom reluctantly and found Draco standing by the bed, tugging on his trousers. "All right, Granger?"

She eyed him warily. "You're not going to tell anyone, right?"

"Tell anyone what?"

"I'm really not in the mood for this, so-"

"Calm down. No, I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm the adulterer here, remember?"

She crossed her arms. "It's 8 am. I'm sure your wife won't have a hard time figuring out why you didn't come home last night."

"She's used to it," Draco shrugged as he pulled on his shirt. Hermione felt a surge of disgust for Draco - how could he be so flippant? How many times had he done this before?

"You're really vile," Hermione muttered, shaking her head.

Draco only smirked. "That's not what you said last night."

"Yes, well, last night was the stupidest thing I've ever done," Hermione retorted.

"No doubt. Yet it was also the most pleasurable, wasn't it?"

She grimaced and said, "How can you be so matter-of-fact about it? Does she really mean that little to you?"

He finished the last button of his shirt and looked her in the eyes. She looked down instantly, not liking the way his silvery eyes made her feel when they were on her. "You're still as naive as ever, I see."

"Whatever - I'm going home, I'm not going to argue with you," she said, going for the door and grabbing her wand off the nightstand on the way.

"Suit yourself. Owl me if you'd like another go one of these days," Draco said with a grin.

She turned and shot him a disgusted look as her hand gripped the doorknob. "That's never going to happen."

His grin didn't falter. "We'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

Her eyes narrowed and, against her better judgement, she asked, "Why would you even want another go? You should be disgusted with yourself for sleeping with a mudblood."

At this, his grin faded. He looked almost angry as he approached her. "You think I've been lying the last six years? I couldn't care less about any blood supremacist rubbish, Granger. I haven't for a long time."

She'd never taken his public repentances very seriously, as she always considered him very much of a self-serving opportunist, but he seemed outraged at her words. "Well, surely you can understand why I'd be skeptical."

Draco's eyes narrowed but his outrage seemed to fade a little bit. "You're a lot more likeable when you're drunk and naked."

"Goodbye, Malfoy," she snapped as she wrenched open the door. She stomped down the hall, not bothering to look back when he stuck his head out the door and called, "I'll be waiting for your owl!"

The self loathing began to rear its ugly head once again by the time she found fresh air outside the motel, and she took a deep breath to brace herself before turning on the spot.

She vanished and reappeared outside the London flat she shared with Ron, and hesitated for just a moment before walking into the building.

When she reached her door she opened it slowly, and when she stepped inside she found Harry pacing in her sitting room.

"Blimey, Hermione! Where have you been?" Harry exclaimed as she closed the door behind her, and at his voice Ginny, Ron, and George burst in the room. Hermione sighed and opened her mouth to speak when Ron advanced on her.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, what were you thinking? Where were you? What were you playing at, not coming home or-"

"Don't you talk to her, Ron," Ginny snapped as she yanked Ron back by his arm and bypassed him to Hermione. She took Hermione's hand and said quietly, "I found out he filed for divorce yesterday - I'm so livid, I can't believe it - I don't blame you for leaving last night but I wish you would have come to our place."

Hermione nodded and looked from Ginny to the men in the room, and said, "I'm sorry, I know it's not like me but I got drunk last night and crashed at a motel. I didn't want to risk a splinch, so..."

Harry's eyes grew concerned and Ginny squeezed her hand. George broke the silence that followed her by whacking Ron on the back of his head. "See what you did to the poor girl, you git? Now she's on her way to being a drunk - excellent job, Ron."

"Get off me, George-"

Hermione cleared her throat. "I don't plan on getting drunk again any time soon. So everyone can calm down. And if nobody minds, I'll be in the bathroom taking some potion."

She pushed past Harry and gave Ron a glare as she headed to her bathroom, leaving Ginny, Harry, and George to stare reproachfully at Ron.

"Idiot," George muttered.

"Hey, I'm not -"

"You sprang this on her out of nowhere," Harry said. "None of us knew you guys were having problems and you didn't even try to work them out first."

"I did try! I tried to talk to her, and everytime I did, she was too bloody busy or tired, or whatever! It's been the story of my life the last five years!"

"Cry me a sodding river, Ron," Ginny hissed as she walked past her brother. She continued to the bathroom a hall away, and gently knocked on the closed door.

"Who is it?" Hermione said.

"It's me," Ginny replied.

Hermione opened the door, clutching a vial of clear liquid in her free hand. Ginny looked her friend over and said, "You look bloody awful."

Hermione snorted. "I feel that way too." She then drank the anti-nausea potion and turned back to the mirror above her sink. She touched the bags under eyes and grimaced at her reflection, then saw a red bite mark on the left side of her neck and nearly squeaked in horror. She kept her face as calm as possible and moved her hair to cover it, and glanced at Ginny in the mirror and was relieved to see that she didn't appear to have noticed anything.

"Where did you go?"

"I went to a Muggle pub in London. I had a few drinks and it all went to my head so fast..."

"I would have gone with you if you had asked me," Ginny said earnestly.

Hermione shook her head. "I wouldn't ask you to do that, not with James still so small - where is he, anyway?"

"Mum has him. Harry and I came as soon as Ron Flooed us."

Hermione nodded and turned back to her reflection. Ginny added, "Why didn't you tell us what he did?"

"I don't know... I was in shock and I just didn't want to deal with it. I didn't understand, and I still don't understand. I knew how everyone would react."

"Well, trust me, none of us understand either. My mum is shocked, we're all shocked - we all thought everything was fine!"

Hermione laughed humorlessly. "So did I."

Harry knocked on the open bathroom door and poked his head in. "You all right, Hermione?"

"The potion's kicking in, so I'm a little better," she sighed. "Sorry I made you guys worry."

"Just tell us the next time you decide to go get hammered so we don't start assuming the worst," Harry said with a small smile.

"Did you really get that knackered alone?" Ginny asked, and Hermione experienced an unwelcome flashback of Draco moaning in her ear as they climaxed in one another's arms.

"Yeah," she nodded a little too vigorously. "I didn't know anyone there." She suppressed a shiver that rippled through her spine and glanced at Harry. He looked almost... suspicious. He was eyeing her differently than Ginny was, but Hermione looked away and hoped it had been her imagination. She was a good liar, and she always had been - now was not the time to begin doubting her own abilities.

"Alright, well... you're welcome to come stay with us if you'd like, of course, while you and Ron straighten things out," Ginny said.

"I don't think he wants to straighten things out," Hermione muttered. "At least that's the impression I've gotten."

"He's just angry. I don't know what about, but he's not thinking clearly," Harry said. "It's probably best you put some distance between you for now."

Hermione sighed. "You're probably right. I don't want to be here anyway."

"Then it's settled," Ginny said. "I'll go get your trunk ready."

Hermione smiled as the redheaded witch strutted off to her bedroom, and looked at Harry. His suspicious look was back. "What?" she finally snapped.

"Well, it's just... well... you sort of have something that looks like a love bite on your neck."

"I do not!" she protested loudly, automatically gripping the ends of her hair and pulling them to cover up her neck.

"Then why are you hiding your neck?"

"I'm not!"

Harry inclined his head. "Hermione. I know you probably better than anyone else does and you're acting very odd right now."

"For God's sake - I had a terrible day yesterday and I got drunk and slept it off - that's all, Harry."

Harry paused but eventually nodded. "Fine. You're also missing an earring and your shirt's on backwards."

Hermione looked down at her shirt and groaned in defeat. Her top was indeed on backwards, though this wasn't easily noticeable, and she looked back up at Harry with a pained expression. He shoved his hands in his pockets and said, "I'm here to talk when you're ready."

Hermione crossed her arms and nodded, casting her eyes to the floor. Harry turned and walked away, leaving her free to bury her face in her hands and chastise herself.

Meanwhile, at Malfoy Manor, Draco was sitting alone at his vast, ornate dining room table, drinking black coffee and twirling a small diamond stud earring between his fingers. What a night last night had been, he thought with a grin. It had definitely been the best shag he'd had in a long time, there was no question about that. He did enjoy being a woman's first, and he'd definitely been one of Granger's firsts last night - the first to give her good sex. She'd been so bewildered by the pleasure, shocked to know that she was even capable of feeling such things. Yes, last night was very good for his ego, Draco thought, that much was undeniable.

He never in a million years would have thought that he would have a tryst with Hermione Granger of all people, but she was utterly brilliant last night. He suspected it was the first time she'd let loose in ages, and once she did, she was a different person. There was a whole sexual being lurking under her exterior, just waiting to come out at the right man's touch, and her dolt of a husband clearly was too idiotic and dull to rouse this side of her. He smirked to himself. Granger would surely come calling soon. Who wouldn't want a repeat of last night?

The clicking of heels coming from the hallway interrupted Draco's musings, and he deposited the earring into his pocket. Within seconds, Astoria had swooped in front of him, hands on her hips, and her expression livid.

"Draco! Where have you been?" she hissed angrily. She sniffed the air near him and crinkled her nose. "You reek of booze - for God's sake, Draco, don't you know I'm throwing a dinner party tonight and I don't have time for this?"

"My apologies," Draco sneered at his beautiful wife. "Though I'm not surprised that as usual, all you care about is your blasted party."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Astoria retorted.

"Come on, Astoria. I've been coming home like this for months and you've stopped caring about who I was with or what I did. You're concern now only lies with appearances. Doesn't that strike you as a bit pathetic?" Draco stood and pulled out the earring from his pocket. "Don't you want to know who this belongs to? Mrs. Malfoy?"

Astoria looked down at the earring and clear hurt clouded her angry blue eyes. Draco didn't like seeing her hurt, but it was almost somehow better than her seemingly not caring at all. His wife looked from the offending piece of jewelry to Draco and said in a quiet voice, "I am not naive, Draco. I knew coming into this marriage that infidelity would most likely be merely a fact of life, but -"

"A fact of life?" Draco repeated.

"Yes. I grew up knowing my father had mistresses, and my mother knew as well. My friends that I have now, same goes for them. Just don't tell me, and be better at hiding it, and I'll be able to ignore it, alright, Draco?"

"That's really enough for you?" he questioned. "To live like that?"

"It's not ideal. But it's reality in our world."

Draco now felt worse about himself than he possibly ever had before. He and Astoria had been very much in love when they married, and he'd had no intention of their marriage becoming anything like _this_, and yet, it had. Slowly, she had become distant and caught up in their lifestyle, and one night six months ago, he'd cheated for the first time after having a row with her. He'd loathed himself afterwards but ended up doing it again, and then yet again, and eventually he'd managed to turn off his emotions almost completely. But now he saw the situation for what he was, and he hated the fact that his wife, whom he did still love, had all but accepted his philandering much like one accepts broom replacements or bland work meetings - unpleasant, but unavoidable. Who wanted a marriage like that?

"I need to begin my preparations for the party now. I expect you to be cleaned up and ready to greet our guests at four o'clock," Astoria said in a blank voice. "And by the way, I took a test this morning, and I'm still not pregnant."

With that, Draco's wife turned and walked out of the dining room, leaving him standing there, earring still in his lowered hand. He scowled and shoved the thing back in his pocket, wondering how in the world he got to this point.

While Draco's anger grew, Hermione was trying to Floo to Harry and Ginny's house, as they had already done so and were waiting on her, but Ron was standing in front of the fireplace, blocking her way.

"Ron, I don't know why you're doing this when you clearly want nothing to do with me anymore, but would you please move," Hermione said with her arms crossed.

"I just want to talk to you, Hermione."

She scoffed. "The time for talking would have been _before_ you served me papers!"

"Just try to see things from my point of view for _once_ -"

"Why should I?" she retorted. "You've obviously made your decision already! But if I could ask one question - what was it that made you decide to bypass working on our marriage and just end it? Did you find someone you like better?"

Ron said nothing at this, and Hermione's eyes widened.

"_That's_ what it is? You found someone else?"

Ron held up a hand. "Nothing's happened, Hermione, I'd never do that to you. But yes, there's somebody I've been talking to and she actually listens to me and cares what I have to say, and -"

"Oh, spare me, Ron, really," Hermione spat, but inside she was now immensely hurt and her voice quivered with tears. "I'm sorry I'm not as good as whoever this person is. Don't let me stop you from having what you really want."

"That's why I did this, Hermione - I knew as soon as I started feeling something that you deserved better than a husband who was starting to want someone else!"

Hermione blinked. Ron said this as if it made him somehow noble - was he that clueless? "You know what? I don't care anymore. Go have your slag. I'll sign your papers and you'll be free to shag her all you want."

"Hermione -"

She ripped out her wand. "Move, Ron. I'm leaving."

"Just wait a minute -"

She flicked her wand angrily and Ron was blasted to the floor with a yelp. She walked to the fireplace but her anger was soaring and before she left, she turned around and looked down at her husband. "There's one more thing you should know. I didn't get drunk alone last night. I spent the night with someone. And I enjoyed it."

Ron's eyes nearly bulged right out of his skull.

"Maybe you're right, and maybe we haven't been happy for a long time. I probably _have_ been too busy to notice. Either way, I hope you're a better man and a far better lover to whoever you fancy now. Because last night the man I was with accomplished in minutes what you haven't in five years."

It was a low blow, and Hermione knew it, but the flustered indignation on Ron's face was worth it. She grabbed a handful of Floo powder and tossed it into the fireplace, then stepped into the green flames and out of her marriage.


	3. Friends, Enemies, & Obnoxious Blondes

**A/N: Thank you everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted! I'm going to try updating this story once a week, since my other one is taking up most of my focus at the moment. I hope you guys like this chapter, I sort of threw it all together and just crossed my fingers lol...**

Hermione sat in her office at the Ministry of Magic, sipping black coffee instead of her usual tea, staring blankly at the paperwork that lay on her desk. It had been a week since Ron served her papers, and sleep hadn't been coming easy. She woke up every morning still hurt and angry, and had adopted an inner attitude of fierce denial of her drunken night with Malfoy. It was hard enough to deal with the impending divorce and how the gossip about it gripped the wizarding community without the added stress of how she'd chosen to act out her anger and disappointment.

The _Daily Prophet_ sat innocently on a far corner of her desk, and she eyed it as if she expected the newspaper to sprout arms and legs and assault her. Apparently, with no Dark Lords running around trying to exterminate large portions of the wizarding population, the Prophet had little else to print but mundane political articles and rumors about what could have possibly torn the Weasleys apart.

One day, an "unnamed" source claimed that Hermione couldn't bear children, and that was what caused them to split. The next day, another source claimed Molly had engineered the divorce, as she and Hermione had never gotten along and Ron caved into his mother's pressure finally.

Of course, it was all rubbish, especially the bit about Molly. She and the Weasley matriarch had generally always gotten on fine (except for the wedding five years ago, when Hermione had to stave off Molly's efforts to hijack the event), and in fact, Molly had already visited Hermione twice at Harry and Ginny's house bearing soups and sweets, and comforting hugs. She also assured Hermione each time that she had given Ron a thorough tongue lashing and a few good whacks on his ginger head for what he did, but she seemed ever hopeful for a reconciliation, which Hermione knew wasn't going to happen. She had to fight hard to not let her secret eat her alive from the inside out when Molly was near, because for some reason, she brought out the most overwhelming guilt of anyone, even more than her own parents.

But Hermione figured this was due to how deeply embedded she was in the Weasley family, so much do that everyone automatically took her side over Ron's. But she felt she didn't deserve their loyalty, not after what she did only hours after being given divorce papers. Oddly enough, Ron seemingly hadn't told anyone about her parting words confessing her misdeeds - if he did, nobody had let on that they knew, at least.

She set her coffee mug down with a thud. A bit of the dark liquid splashed over the rim of the mug and landed on her papers, and she cursed quietly before cleaning the small mess with a wave of her wand. She sighed and pushed away the unwanted thoughts of the night she'd tried so hard to purge from her memory, and was just about to dig into her paperwork when a knock on her office door startled her.

"Come in," she called, watching the door creak open. To her surprise, the dark head of Neville Longbottom poked inside.

"Hey, Hermione."

"Neville!" Hermione smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to see you, actually," Neville said, closing the door behind him. Hermione rose and when he walked to her the old friends hugged. "How are you?"

Hermione laughed as they pulled away. "I've been better, but I'm sure you know that."

Neville nodded and sank into the extra chair in front of her desk, and she plopped back down into her own chair. "Yeah, I'd have to be living under a hippogriff to not have heard about it. Especially since I'm sort of in the middle of it."

Hermione furrowed her brows. "What makes you say that?"

"Well - you don't know?"

Hermione shook her head in confusion.

"Hannah and Ron."

"Hannah and Ron," Hermione repeated.

"She served me papers the same day Ron served you yours. Apparently they've been bonding in Diagon Alley, what with the pub being close to the joke shop and 'one thing leading to another', as they say."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Hannah? _Your_ Hannah? _That's_ who supposedly understands him and listens to him like I never did?" Then through her sudden anger, Hermione saw the all too familiar pain etched on Neville's features. He was going through exactly what she was, it seemed. "Oh, Neville - I'm so sorry."

"So am I," Neville said quietly. "Blindsided me."

"I know the feeling," Hermione frowned.

"I thought you'd have known it was her."

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't even know you two split up. I'd have owled you if I did. How are you doing?"

"Same as you, I reckon," Neville shrugged.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"But we've been through worse, right? I mean, we won a bloody war. And people get divorced every day."

"Right," Hermione nodded, knowing it wasn't as simple as that. "Where are you staying now?"

"With Gran," Neville grimaced. "I would get my own place but I'm traveling a lot for school and it would be a waste of galleons at the moment."

"How much longer until you're certified in herbology?" Hermione asked as his face brightened just a little bit.

"Not much longer. Six months if I don't get distracted," Neville replied. "I should have been done two years ago but when Hannah inherited the pub, we put a lot of work into it together and... yeah, smart move in hindsight."

Hermione shook her head. "Don't start thinking in terms of what you could and should have done. It'll drive you mad."

"I suppose," Neville said. "But it's hard not to. I keep trying to figure out when everything changed for her. I think it must have been when I got back to my studies and she started managing the pub alone."

"It was something like that with Ron and I, too. Apparently I became too busy for Ron once I got the job here as assistant to the Secretary of the Department of Magical Creatures," Hermione sighed.

A brief silenced passed. "How's the job going, anyway?"

"Well, I suppose. It's a lot of busy work. But the secretary's considering passing along the bill I drafted that would allow elves and goblins to carry wands."

Neville's eyes widened a bit. "Wow. Elves, I can see, but goblins - there's going to be a lot of resistance there."

"I know. But even if it gets cut down to just elves, that's a considerable step in the right direction," Hermione said a little wearily. Some days it became difficult to keep focus on her goals when she drowned in pointless paperwork every day.

"Right," Neville nodded. "Well, I have to get on my way but I wanted to see you, make sure you were doing alright."

She smiled and got to her feet with him. "Thank you, Neville. If I'd known about what happened I would have gotten in touch with you already. I'm sorry."

Neville shrugged and embraced her once more. "Don't worry about it. My personal life isn't front page news like yours."

"Lucky me," she said with a forced laugh as she walked him to the door. Just before they reached it, a soft knock rang out.

Hermione opened the door and found Luna Lovegood on the other side, smiling pleasantly. "Hello, Hermione. Hello, Neville - didn't expect to see you here," the blonde said airily. Her hair was still as long and unkempt as ever, and her eyes were still very wide and perpetually surprised looking, but she had long since stopped wearing vegetables for earrings and now carried a deeper, more matured beauty than before.

"Hi, Luna - you're early," Hermione chuckled. Luna had requested a meeting with Hermione regarding a new creature she had discovered in her travels across Britain, but she wasn't due to arrive until three hours from now.

"Yes, I'm sorry about arriving so early, but a Black-Tailed Kneazle crossed my path this morning and I thought it best to get here early so I can be home most of the day and avoiding spreading my bad luck. It's a very bad omen, you see." Luna's light gray eyes moved to Neville, and she said, "Neville, you look dreadful!"

Neville glanced at Hermione and blushed a little. "Yeah - er - bad week."

"I've had one of those, too," Luna said. "They say these things happen in threes quite often."

"Threes?" Hermione asked.

"Rolf and I broke up," Luna said in her usual dreamy fashion, not seeming altogether put out by this. "So it seems we are all in the same boat, so to speak."

Neville shifted a little uncomfortably, and Luna simply smiled at her two friends. Hermione realized they were still standing in the doorway and said, "Well, come on in, Luna, and Neville, I'll owl you soon."

Neville nodded and walked past Luna, who kept her eyes on him as he left. "Goodbye, Neville."

Neville looked back and smiled a little. "Bye, Luna."

Luna turned to Hermione and kept her smile on her face as she took a seat. "It's very unfortunate, all of these events."

"Yes," Hermione said quietly. "It is. I didn't know about Neville and Hannah until just now."

"I've known for a few days. I'm not surprised, really. After all, Hannah's a bit on the dim side and Neville is quite brilliant," Luna said, still smiling a bit.

Hermione stifled a laugh. "Well - can't say I disagree with you there."

"If I were you, I would be quite tired of people asking questions about your divorce, so I won't. But I do hope you know I'm here if you need to talk, or if there's anything I can do to help," Luna said sweetly.

Hermione smiled. "Thanks, Luna. And yes, I'm extremely sick of the questions, but you're my friend. It's different with you than, say, reporters from the _Daily Prophet_ who hide in the bushes and jump out to ask me how devastated I am that particular day."

"Oh, that is terrible," Luna said sadly.

Hermione shrugged. "It is what it is, I suppose. How are you? I thought you and Rolf were engaged."

"We were, but he decided to take a different path with his career, and we both decided it best to end things for now. It's alright - if it's meant to be, we'll find our way back to each other."

Hermione nodded and admired her peculiar friend, who seemed to always have unwavering perspective no matter the situation. She really was one of the strongest people Hermione had ever met. "Well, I hope you do. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

Luna smiled. "Oh, I'm perfectly happy at the moment. Especially since I found a creature on the north countryside a few days ago that I thought to be extinct."

And then the two women turned to the business at hand, which involved Luna asking Hermione to request legal protection for the animal she had found, and Hermione assuring her that she would ask the secretary later that day about the matter. When their conversation was over, Hermione persuaded Luna to ignore the Kneazle-induced risk of bad luck and stay out a bit longer to accompany her to lunch at an elf-run cafe that sat mid-level on the Ministry building. It was where most Ministry workers went to lunch, though Hermione usually preferred to Floo to other restaurants for some fresh air, but the Ministry cafe was free of reporters and she had resigned herself to eating there until the press lost interest in her.

She and Luna ordered a few salads and then began to look for a free table, which is when Hermione's heart dropped at the sight of Draco's platinum blonde head at a table with Harry. It wasn't as odd of a sight as it would have been six years ago - the two men, who still despised one another, had meetings every few months at the Ministry. Wannabe dark wizards still flocked to the Malfoy name and company, and when one would come out of the woodwork, Draco would owl Harry, they would suffer through a meal together, Draco would hand Harry a list of names, and they would part ways.

But this usually happened in Harry's office. Hermione clutched her food tray and motioned to an empty table on the opposite side of the room, and stole one more glance at Draco as she and Luna walked. This time she caught his eye, and his annoyed expression instantly turned amused. He winked at Hermione as Harry stared down at a piece of parchment, and she felt her face immediately begin burning scarlet.

Vowing to not look his way again, Hermione sat down with Luna and tried to smile nonchalantly when Luna looked upon her curiously.

"Why is your face so red?" Luna asked. "You look suddenly very flustered."

"I'm fine, it's just a bit hot," Hermione lied. It was far from hot - if anything, the cafe was a bit too cool.

Luna didn't press the matter and they began to eat, while Hermione tried desperately hard to shake the feeling that she was being watched. Little did she know, she was.

At his table, Harry made an impatient noise and snapped his fingers in his old rival's face. "Malfoy!"

Draco snapped his eyes back to Harry. "What?" he spat.

Harry held up the parchment. "Is this a J or an L? Your bloody handwriting is barely legible -"

Draco snapped the parchment back and glanced at it. "It's a J, obviously - don't you know how to properly write the alphabet, Potter?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and then looked over towards where Draco had been staring off to. "Why were you staring at Hermione?"

"Why was I - what?" Draco said with a crinkled nose. "Are you daft? Why in Merlin's name would I be staring at her?"

"Well, you were staring over there for so long I had to snap my fingers for you to wake up, so you tell me."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I keep hoping that one of these times I'm forced to see you that you will miraculously become bearable and I won't want to punch you just to make you shut up."

Harry smiled sarcastically. "The feeling's mutual."

Back at Hermione's table, Luna was talking about her disappointment over not finding a Crumple Horned Snorkack yet and Hermione was nodding politely while shoveling lettuce into her mouth, her feeling of being watched having eased a bit. After a moment, she worked up the nerve to break her vow and look again. This time she saw Draco sneering at Harry, and she suppressed a laugh - some things would clearly never change.

Then Draco glanced her way again, and Hermione quickly turned her eyes back to Luna.

"If you don't want to listen, I won't be offended if you say so," Luna said pleasantly. "I can see your attention is somewhere else."

"Oh, no, no - please, go on," Hermione insisted.

But Luna simply smiled, then glanced around the cafe for a moment. "Why is Draco Malfoy staring at you, Hermione?"

Hermione nearly choked on the sip of water she was taking. "Hmm? Oh, he's not."

"Yes he is," Luna said. "Look."

Hermione reluctantly looked, and sure enough, he was still looking her way. She sighed and stared into her salad.

"He looks like he has a lot of wrackspurts following him. I can see them even without my spectrespecs," Luna observed, squinting her eyes. "He really should do something about that."

Hermione snorted and stuffed the rest of her salad into her face, eager to get back to the safety of her office. When Luna was done with her meal, Hermione hurried them out of the cafe and escorted Luna to one of the Floo exits, hugging her and sending her off with a feeling of great warmth. She may have been in the process of a very unwanted divorce, but she still had the best friends anyone could ask for.

On her way back to her office, Draco's smirking face invaded her thoughts and she felt her temporarily lifted spirits fall once more. She'd felt so _exposed_ under his gaze, so anxious and uncomfortable, but it had been thrilling in some weird way as well. She shrugged it off, chalking up any emotional oddities to her current general state of upheaval, and strolled into her office utterly unprepared to find Draco inside of it, inspecting the framed photos on her desk.

"What the bloody - what are you doing in my office?" she exclaimed, hurriedly shutting the door behind her. Draco smirked and turned around, hands in the pockets of his black suit, and looked her over.

"Just thought I'd pay you a friendly visit. Maybe ask why you were staring at me downstairs."

"Me? Staring at you?" she repeated, crossing her arms. "I believe it was you doing the staring."

Draco shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't really matter, does it, Granger? Anyway, I have something of yours I thought you might want back."

She furrowed her brows at him until he produced a small diamond stud earring from his pocket. He held it out to her and she took it after a moment's hesitation, her pulse quickening when their fingers brushed.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "But I'd prefer you leave before I have to make up an excuse as to why you're in my office."

"Like I need one," Draco scoffed. "You care far too much what others think."

Hermione sighed and walked around him to her desk. "Can you just go?"

"Where's the fun in that? I like watching you squirm," he grinned. "Especially after watching you squirm in pleasure while I used my tongue to -"

"Malfoy!" she gasped. "Don't say - don't - just _shut up_!"

His grin widened. "Stammering at the memory, are we? I don't blame you. "

Hermione clenched her jaw. "It's not funny, and you are disgusting for acting like this when you're married."

Draco's grin shrunk a little at this, and he perched on her desk. "Maybe it'll help change your mind to know that I actually showed my wife that earring of yours and flaunted what I did, and all she did was ask me to hide my indiscretions better."

Hermione furrowed her brows again. "Well, that's awful! What kind of wife has that attitude?"

"Mine," Draco replied.

"But that's not even a real marriage. Neither of you can possibly be happy," Hermione said.

Draco shrugged. "That much should have been obvious by what I did with you last week."

"So then why don't you just leave and find someone who makes you happy instead of cheating on her over and over and making both of you miserable?"

Draco shrugged. "It's not that simple."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course. But it was that simple for Ron, and Hannah Abbot."

"Hannah Abbot?"

Hermione nodded. "That's who my husband left me for."

Draco laughed. "Well, at least they fit one another, the dim witted dunderheads that they are. Perhaps the Weasel got sick of being reminded of his own stupidity every time you opened your mouth."

Hermione have him a disapproving look, but didn't miss the fact that he'd just complimented her intelligence in an odd sort of way. "He's not an idiot."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Right. He couldn't even figure out how to pleasure his own wife after five years of marriage. It's not exactly advanced Arithmancy."

"Alright, alright - you've made your point, now please leave."

"Why?" he inquired, leaning in closer to her. "Do I make you nervous? Do I make you want another go?"

She suppressed a shiver and forced herself to look into his silver eyes head on. "You make me want to hex you into next Sunday, actually."

"Before or after I make you scream my name?"

He was close, too close, and his scent filled her nose and brought back memories of what it was like to kiss him, and make love to him. But he was being exceptionally obnoxious right now, and Hermione wasn't about to lose her head. "It's not going to happen again."

"Mmhmm," he breathed, reaching out a hand and touching one of her frazzled curls. "Your head says no, but the blush on your cheeks and your pounding heart say yes."

She pulled her wand from her pocket and poked it into Draco's chest. "My wand says leave my office or pay the consequences."

Draco glanced down at her wand and smirked. "Now, now - no need for threats. I mean you no harm - quite the opposite, actually."

Hermione sighed and moved away from him, walking to the door. "Go."

Draco made a show off getting off her desk and swaggering to the door. Hermione made an impatient noise, finding him unbearably annoying yet also unbearably sexy, but that didn't matter. He was a vile mistake, and she wouldn't dream of repeating the error.

His silver eyes bore into her brown ones once more as he placed his hand upon the doorknob. "If you change your mind, you know how to find me."

"Don't hold your breath," she scoffed.

He grinned and opened the door, finally leaving her office. She pressed it shut as soon as she could, and leaned against it for a moment, scolding her misbehaving heart for thumping at Draco's advances. It was just ridiculous to be acting this way about him - after all, their night together was a drunken, profound error in judgement, and nothing more. Anything she was feeling now was a byproduct of guilt, shame, anxiety at the secrecy of it, and lingering amazement of how good it had been. But it could never happen again, and she wouldn't budge on that. Draco Malfoy was a strange bedfellow for a night, and nothing more.

She took a deep breath. Now that she had successfully analyzed her way into some brief mental peace, she could get back to work.

* * *

"Be careful, James!"

The ten month old baby giggled and tried to run on his fat little stumps for legs, but quickly tripped over his own feet and began to wail once he hit the floor.

"Oh, it's alright, James," Ginny cooed, picking up her son and patting him on the back as he cried. "I'm sure this is just the beginning of the tumbles you'll be taking now that you've decided to start walking."

Ginny brought James back to the center of her sitting room, where she placed him on the floor in the middle of an abundance of toys. Harry grinned and moved off the couch to sit beside his wife and son, handing James a toy fire truck from his toy pile. Arthur had given the boy many toys since his birth, and the fire truck was one of them, as all of his gifts were of various Muggle items. The latest one had been a flashlight, which James had actually taken quite a liking to before Teddy managed to steal it and smuggle it back to Andromeda's house after his last visit.

"I can't believe how fast he's growing," Hermione said from the couch, a small stack of papers she'd brought home from work in her hand and a Muggle pen in the other. This was how she spent most of her nights, finishing what work she couldn't during the day.

"Me either," Harry said, ruffling his son's dark curls. "I think it's time for another one, Ginny."

Ginny grinned at this. "Well, we'll find out in a week or so, won't we?"

Hermione looked up from her papers again. "You're already trying for another one?"

Ginny shrugged. "We aren't really trying or not trying. Which means I'll probably be on pace with my mum soon." Ginny chuckled and then added, "I'm happy with one or seven, to be honest."

Hermione smiled at her friend and felt a pang of jealousy. She'd thought for sure that she would have at least one child of her own by now, but despite her best efforts with Ron for the last two years, it just hadn't happened. She'd seen healers and they'd all said that she was perfectly fertile, so she had no explanation for the lack of a child.

And now, living with the almost sickeningly happy Harry and Ginny, and their beautiful first child, her biological clock was ticking yet again, echoing against her empty and broken heart, leaving her angry at herself for feeling this way when she should just be happy for her friends and focus on putting her life back together.

The problem was, she didn't know where to start.

"Why don't you leave the work for five minutes and come sit with us on the floor, James misses his auntie," Ginny prodded.

"I'm almost done," Hermione sighed.

"What are you even doing, anyway?" Harry asked.

"Highlighting parts of these reports for the Secretary, to save him some time," Hermione replied.

"Oh, my goodness - I think he'll live if you give yourself a break. Get your bony bum on the floor before I kick it there," Ginny insisted.

Hermione reluctantly put the papers down and obliged, and ended up on the floor for a good half an hour. James was excited to have the three of them at his level, and within the thirty minutes he managed to exhaust himself into a crying fit.

Ginny picked up her son and carried him to her bedroom to put him to sleep the only way he would - in a warm, quiet room, while breastfeeding - and once she'd left, Hermione lowered her back to the floor and closed her eyes.

"I'm so tired," she grumbled. "But I know if I go to bed I won't sleep anyway."

"We've got some sleeping potion in our medicine cabinet if you'd like some," Harry said, yawning as he placed James' toys into a large red box.

"I would take you up on that, but I get terrible side effects from that potion," Hermione sighed. "I suppose I'll just have to keep suffering."

Harry patted his friend's arm. "Sorry."

Hermione sat up and leaned back against the couch, giving Harry a small smile. "It's alright. I know it'll get better in time."

Harry nodded. "It will." He paused, then added, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Hermione eyed him curiously. "Of course I do - what do you mean?"

"Well... Ron told me something, and it's none of my business, but if it's true, it sort of confirms the conversation we had the morning you came home drunk -"

"What did Ron say?" she asked sharply.

Harry paused. "He told me what you said when you left him. And again, it's none of my business - I just want you to know that you can tell me, or Ginny, anything. I can tell there's something else bothering you and I just think it might help if you got it off your chest."

He was right, and she was too tired and too sick of holding it all in to keep her secret any longer. And it just so happened she trusted Harry more than anyone in the world.

"I messed up," she said in a small voice after a long moment of silence. Harry moved closer to her, and she continued. "I was so hurt and so drunk... I don't know what I was thinking. The next morning I woke up next to -"

The name _Draco Malfoy_ became stuck in her throat, and after a minute she said. "Someone. A Muggle. Nobody we know. I felt so incredibly stupid… I just wanted to forget about it, but the guilt has been terrible…"

Harry nodded, watching her stare at her feet as she spoke. "If it's any consolation, I don't think Ron waited to give you the divorce papers to get physical with Hannah."

She raised her eyes to her friend. "What makes you say that? And why didn't you tell me it was Hannah he's seeing? I saw Neville today and found out through him."

"Because I didn't know myself until yesterday," Harry said. "Ron's been very weird and secretive about it all. But I dunno… it's just a feeling I have. He acts very guilty. Sort of like you have been."

Hermione lowered her face into her hands. "I don't know how things got this way."

Harry shook his head, and placed an arm around Hermione's shoulders. She rested her head on him and sighed, now feeling a bit of extra guilt for lying to her best friend.

* * *

Meanwhile, Draco lay in bed alone, staring at the ceiling, brooding angrily as the shower ran loudly the adjacent bathroom. For whatever reason, whenever he and Astoria were intimate as of late, she would immediately bound out of bed and take a shower, as if to wash him off of her. It was getting annoying, and tonight all of his frustrations seemed to come to a head. Hermione's words kept swimming around in his mind - _Why don't you just leave and find someone who makes you happy instead of cheating on her over and over and making both of you miserable? _– and those words were grating on his nerves, because he wanted nothing more than to do as she suggested.

But what would be the point? It was hard enough to find one woman who was willing to suffer through a relationship with him, and even that hadn't been easy. Sure, there was no shortage of one night stands willing to give him a shag, but Astoria was the only woman masochistic enough to live with him and attempt to bear his children. The faded Dark Mark on his arm kept him forever stigmatized, no matter how hard he tried to make up for it, nobody outside of the business world wanted much to do with an ex-Death Eater. As pathetic as it sounded, he didn't want to be alone, even if the alternative was to be miserable with his wife. And if he did change his mind about that in the future, he would prefer that he did so after she produced a child for him, so that he could at least ensure that he continued the family line even if he spent the rest of his days alone.

He heard the water in the shower shut off, and he turned over and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. When Astoria slipped back into bed, redressed in her nightgown, his mind flickered to Hermione once more. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her anymore – something in her eyes set her apart from the others. She didn't look at him with hidden revulsion, seeing all of his mistakes and nothing else, like the rest of the world did. She seemed to expect better of him somehow, and was genuinely baffled as to why he would continue to suffer in an unhappy marriage. Of course, this was probably just naiveté – most arranged marriages were miserable, and all but his first year of marriage had been awful – but it still made him wonder.

She was also the first one night stand he'd bothered to speak to again. Sure, she was fun to rile up, and always had been, and he told himself that was why he'd tried so hard to get under her skin again. He wondered what she would be like in bed while sober, somewhere other than a ratty Muggle motel, where he could take his time to ravish her.

He tried to shake the annoying thoughts and sleep, but sleep didn't come until much later. Much like his past that followed him everywhere he went, no matter how hard he tried to outrun it, he found he couldn't escape the bitter, miserable present either.


	4. Screw It

**A/N: erm... so I was supposed to be writing my other story when I thought, oh, I'll just start the next chapter of this one... and then it turned into _this _lol. It all just sort of happened even though I so wasn't planning on anything like to happen for at least a few more chapters. If it's awful, I apologize. Cuz I think it's awful. Let me know what you think lol, and thank to everyone who's reviewed/favorited/alerted! :D**

Hermione bit her lip as she sat down at the long, empty table inside of a building she'd never been in before, an uneasy dread in her gut for what was to come. Her lawyer, Jonas Lakewood, took a seat beside her and set his briefcase on the floor next to his feet.

She'd hired him on the suggestion of a witch at the Ministry who had experienced several divorces and spoke highly of him, but really she didn't care who took legal care of her divorce. She just wanted it over so she didn't have to think about it anymore, and so hopefully folks would lose interest in her private life altogether.

A door at the end of the room opened and Ron appeared, accompanied by a tall blonde woman, dressed in a smart but slightly garish red business suit, who appeared to be in her mid-40s. She bore a resemblance to Rita Skeeter, and Hermione instantly decided she didn't like her.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Lakewood," the woman said loudly, not bothering to look at either of them as she took a seat opposite them. Ron glanced sheepishly at Hermione as he sat, but she stared intently at him, looking as if she hoped he'd spontaneously combust. "Let's get down to business, I see no use dilly dallying about."

Jonas bristled a bit but pulled some papers out of his briefcase, then looked back at the woman as she looked at him expectantly. "Here is a list of assets my client would like to retain. As you can see, it is not a long list, nor unreasonable."

The woman glanced over the piece of parchment. "Your client does not wish to retain the Nimbus 5000?"

"I'm right here," Hermione grumbled, "and no, I do not. I've never been much of a flyer, unlike Ron."

The woman eyed Hermione with a smile that suggested she found her somehow cute, like a small child. "Excellent. So, shall we agree to divide your Gringotts vault equally?"

Hermione nodded, and Jonas said, "Yes, this is fair."

"Splendid," the woman smiled. "And the London flat?"

"Ron can keep that as well," Hermione said, looking back to Ron. He looked down at his hands immediately.

"Then that leaves us with spousal maintenance arrangements," Ron's lawyer said brightly, revealing a long piece of parchment. "Mr. Weasley is requesting this amount in a single monthly payment. As you can see, his expenses are clearly listed."

"Maintenance?" Hermione repeated in disbelief. "You've got to be joking! He makes plenty of money to support himself! I can't afford this!"

The woman smiled again. "Mrs. Weasley -"

"Miss Granger," Hermione corrected angrily, "and who are you, anyway?"

"Rachel Skeeter, I'm surprised you don't recognize me from my extensive legal work in the wizarding world."

"Skeeter - I should have known," Hermione said. "Charming choice, Ron."

Ron worked up the nerve to speak for the first time. "Look, you make twice as much as I do at the joke shop, and it's just until -"

"Rubbish!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm paid little more than an intern!"

"Still more than me!" Ron argued. "And I now I have to pay for this flat by myself, and -"

"You have one bloody year of payments left, Ron, and mind you, the last four years of payments have all come out of my pocket. If you can't handle paying for one year then I'll take the stupid flat!"

"I need the flat, everything else is too expensive," Ron protested.

Rachel seemed to be enjoying the bickering, but Jonas held up a hand. "Alright, let's calm down and look at the numbers, shall we?"

Jonas produced a chart listing Ron and Hermione's salaries, plus the worth of their combined assets. "In my view, maintenance would be reasonable only if my client were retaining a large majority of assets. Seeing as she is requesting only her personal possessions, thus leaving Mr. Weasley with everything else, your request is laughable."

Rachel leaned forward and smiled obnoxiously. "My client has suffered considerable emotional distress over the course of his marriage to Mrs. Weasley, and we consider it more than fair that she pay some... damages, if you will. But I suppose that's for a judge to decide."

Hermione's eyes bulged. "Ronald!" she half-gasped, glaring at her husband. "Have you gone mad? This must be a joke!"

"Right, because my feelings are always a joke to you," Ron shot back. "This is the story of our whole marriage."

Hermione scowled but tried to ignore his words. "I'm letting you have nearly everything we own. I'm not paying you a single knut."

"That's about as much attention as you've paid to me for the last few

years," Ron mumbled.

Hermione slammed her hands down on the table loudly, leaning forward towards Ron as she spat, "You never even talked to me once about any of our supposed myriad of problems! You never even tried to fight for us!"

"Yes, I did!" Ron yelled back. "I did, over and over, and you just never stopped for one bloody minute to listen!"

"Oh, but Hannah did, didn't she?"

Ron's face reddened. "Don't bring her into this."

"I didn't bring her into anything, Ron, you did that when you started shagging her."

Rob's jaw dropped and his face burned even brighter. "I didn't - I - I told you nothing happened before I filed!"

"Sure, I really believe that," Hermione retorted. Jonas placed a hand on her arm and she shook it off. "I need some air. I'm taking a break."

She ignored Rachel Skeeter's protest and left the room, taking the lift down to the first floor and walking out into the cool autumn morning air. She was shaking with a mix of anger and hurt, and she was just about to let a tear escape when a camera flashed in her face. She turned to her left and saw a gaggle of reporters huddled together, and then there were many more flashes, along with shouted questions.

She groaned and turned to walk back into the building but she couldn't bring herself to do it, so instead she walked quickly down to a large building just a few feet away and threw herself inside of it.

The door closed behind her, and she found herself standing inside what had to be a very rich, successful headquarters for a business. The building was polished and rich looking, shining floors underneath her feet and a large ornate chandelier above a greeting desk a few yards ahead of her. Two winding staircases flanked the desk, and the woman seated at the desk was conversing with a tall platinum blonde man who was clad in a dark suit. She'd know him anywhere, and as her heart sank she turned back to the door but now there was an even bigger group of reporters, some of whom had their faces pressed against the door. She realized she was trapped just as the drawling voice spoke.

"Granger? What are you doing here?"

She swallowed and turned around, crossing her arms. "I was down the street and a bunch of reporters jumped out - I just walked inside the first building I saw. I'll leave now."

She turned but then he spoke again. ""I wouldn't do that - it looks like they may trample you if you step out there."

She let out a sigh and cursed the tears that were beginning to stream down her face. Draco, who was just a step behind her now, furrowed his brows. "What are you blubbering about?"

"Nothing," she shook her head as she wiped her eyes, but even still new tears fell. Draco sighed and grabbed her arm, then led her away from the door and towards the staircases.

"Come on, don't need you making a scene in the middle of my company."

She followed him lamely, just now realizing that the words "Malfoy Enterprises" were surrounding her from every angle, from plaques on the wall to huge golden letters that wrapped around the welcome desk. How had she not noticed before?

Soon she was through a door and shoved down on a leather couch, where she attempted and failed to get a hold of herself. A moment later, a cup of tea was placed in her hand, and she felt the couch shift under new weight.

She looked up at Draco, and he jerked his head towards the tea. "Drink."

She hesitated but took a sip anyway. Instantly, warmth spread throughout her body, from her head to her fingertips and on down to her toes, and her tears subsided. She took a deep, cleansing breath, having now oddly found some peace again, until she fully realized she was sitting in Draco's office, on his couch, drinking his tea.

She looked down at the tea, and realized something. "You put a potion in there, didn't you? A calming draught?"

Draco shrugged. "Would you rather be crying like a madwoman still?"

She grimaced and placed the tea on a small table in front of the couch. "I should go. I don't even know why I let you take me up here."

His hand enclosed upon hers and pulled her back down when she tried to stand. Her hand tingled at his touch, and she immediately turned her eyes to his. "Those idiots hounding you won't have gone yet - stay a minute and leave when they've cleared a bit."

She snatched her hand back and used it to rub her eyes. "I never should have left, I should have just shut up and finished the blasted meeting..."

"What are you going on about?"

Hermione sighed. She didn't want to speak a word of any of it, but she saw little choice from where she sat. "Ron and I - we had our first meeting today with our lawyers."

"Ah," Draco nodded.

Hermione shook her head, staring forward. "It's bad enough that he hired Rita Skeeter's sister as his lawyer, but on top of it all, he's demanding spousal maintenance! When I barely make enough to afford getting my own place!"

Draco sipped his own mug of tea and furrowed his brows. "Are you joking?"

"I wish I was!" Hermione half- yelled. "He says he deserves it for 'emotional distress'. What utter codswallop..."

She heard Draco make a sniggering sound and glanced at him. "What?"

"'Emotional distress'," Draco repeated, clearly holding back laughter.

"I'm glad you find it funny," Hermione muttered.

"I find every pathetic thing the Weasel says and does to be very funny, yes," Draco drawled.

Hermione ignored him and looked around the huge office for the first time. It was about three times the size of her office at the Ministry, and possibly bigger than the entire first floor of Harry and Ginny's house. It was decorated in shades of gold and white, with a few emerald accents as well. Draco's desk was enormous, and the chair behind it looked a bit like the one inside the headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

"Impressed?"

Hermione quickly shrugged. "I suppose it's what I'd expect. What does your company do, anyway?"

"Invest in companies, start new ones, manage mergers - at least that's what we've been doing the last five years, since my father died."

Hermione looked at him quizzically.

"When he was in charge, he used the company mostly to funnel money into the Dark Arts," Draco said quickly, glancing at the mug in his hand with a look of distaste, like he'd just discovered a bug floating inside of it.

Hermione nodded. "I see."

"But for whatever reason, certain aspiring dark wizards still think we're in business with them, thus my wonderful meetings with Potter at the Ministry."

"And here I thought you two merely enjoyed one another's company," Hermione joked.

Draco snorted. "That will be true when Blast-Ended Skrewts fly."

Hermione sighed. "At least some things never change."

But that was one of the very few things that hadn't changed. Once upon a time, the idea of spending her life without Ron would have been almost as laughable as the thought of sitting in Draco Malfoy's office, having a decent conversation with him and sipping tea. There was nervousness in the pit of her stomach again, as there had been when she'd felt his eyes on her in the Ministry cafe. The calming draught couldn't unwind this particular knot, it seemed, and she grew steadily more uncomfortable with each of his new movement. He reached out an arm to check his wristwatch, and she silently ridiculed herself for nearly jumping.

She decided that she had to get away from the couch, and him, muttering, "I'll go check if the reporters are gone." She stood and walked past Draco's desk to the huge full length window behind it, and peered down into the street. The reporters were still there, waiting for her to emerge, and she groaned. She withdrew her wand and produced a Patronus, whispering a message and sending it to Jonas. She didn't say where she was, just that she was hiding out from some paparazzi, and that she'd return when she could.

She didn't feel Draco's eyes on her this time, but he was staring at her as intently as ever. He'd watched her walk across the office with great enjoyment, appreciating the way her skirt hugged her hips, and the way they shifted with each step. He hadn't touched anyone but Astoria since his drunken night with Hermione, and sex with her was as stale as old bread. He started to have interesting thoughts as he watched her cast her silvery otter, and his eyes flickered to his desk. Just a wave of his wand would clear off the desk, and he would be free to throw Hermione on top of it, and see if she was as much fun in the daylight as she was at night. He began to recall her face as he drove her wild that night, how she'd gasped and moaned, shocked that she could feel such ecstasy, and how good that had felt to his ego, and to a certain other part of him...

Screw it. What did he have to lose?

Hermione was just about to turn around and cast a Disillusionment Charm upon herself and try to sneak past the photogs and back to the law office, but instead she let out a small gasp at the sudden feel of hands upon her hips and lips at her ear. She shivered as he breathed hotly into her sensitive ear, her whole body tensing as she said, "The window -"

"Is tinted from the outside," he murmured, pressing his lips into her skin just below her earlobe.

She felt like a live wire, a far cry from her usual state of either hurt, angry, or numb, but her brain was still functional. "Please, don't..."

His hand moved down her hip until it reached the hem of her skirt, which he pulled up a few inches before placing his hand upon the exposed flesh of her inner thigh, "Fine, I'll stop... just push me away."

He had kissed a trail along her neck now, and he bit down just hard enough to make her yelp a little, but his tongue flicked out and soothed the flesh instantly. His hand was moving up and down her thigh, going high enough to just brush against the lace of her knickers, and she squeezed her eyes shut before they could roll into the back of her head. "I - I don't - I shouldn't -"

Now his free hand moved just under her shirt, grazing the soft flesh of her stomach, while his other continued its work on her thigh. "I think you should."

His lips moved to her earlobe, where his teeth nipped before his tongue teased it. "No - I should go."

Then his hands were suddenly on her hips again, and he spun her around and pushed her against the window. "Haven't you been doing what you 'should' be doing your whole life?"

In many ways, yes, she had to admit.

His silver eyes bore into hers. "And yet you never felt a single ounce of pleasure until I touched you."

She gulped. He didn't need to remind her of that.

"So give me one good reason why you shouldn't let me touch you again."

There were plenty of reasons, but curiously, she couldn't think of one at the moment. She wanted him and his touch, she wanted it badly, even more so when she considered the alternative of leaving and walking back into that room with Ron and Skeeter. She didn't hurt right now in this moment - and it felt good not to hurt.

He traced her jaw with his finger. "I can help you feel better," he murmured, as if reading her mind. Something in his eyes told her she could help his pain, as well.

Screw it. What did she have to lose?

She placed her hands on either side of his face and brought his lips to hers, and she kissed him furiously. His hands found her face as well, and he cradled it as he bruised his lips with the force he used to kiss her back. She tasted different this time, like tea and spearmint instead of a bottle of vodka, and her tongue was the first to dart out, which he opened his lips and let slip inside his mouth before overpowering her and taking charge of their kiss.

Hermione's fingers found the buttons of his suit jacket, and when she popped them she pushed the fabric down from his shoulders, and he briefly withdrew his hands to toss the jacket to the floor. He then grabbed his wand and pointed it behind him at the door, casting locking and silencing charms wordlessly, panting as he did so, until Hermione grabbed him by his tie and pulled him back to her. He was surprised, thinking that a sober Granger would be a more timid one, but she showed no sign of trepidation as she kissed him hungrily. Her fingers found his blonde locks and tangled themselves in them before giving them a slightly ungentle pull, and he groaned at this. Few witches ever dared to do such a thing to his famous tresses, but he loved when one did. He gripped Hermione's hips and turned them around, placing her on his desk and parting her legs with his knee so he could stand in between them, and assaulted her lips a bit more before he moved to her collarbone. Her hands still tangled in his hair, which he was loving, as he tugged her top up. She let go briefly as he pulled the blouse over her head, then found his hair once more as he kissed the tops of her breasts that peeked out from her lacey bra. She absently congratulated herself on choosing matching, decent undergarments that morning, then gasped when Draco's hand found her thigh again. She gasped again when she felt his tongue swirling her nipple, realizing he had pulled down the straps and cups of her bra, and let out a little cry when he ripped off her knickers in one swish of his hand and then let out another one when his fingers then found her moist core.

His teeth nipped at her nipple and she gasped yet again, as this was not something that had ever been done to her before, but she found it only increased the fire raging within her. Two of his fingers moved maddeningly slowly against her, and she started writhing into his palm, desperately wanting more but not getting it, and when his head moved up and he caught her lips with his again, she took note of his still fully clothed state. She clutched his shoulders and wanted badly to feel his skin against hers, but there was something sexy about this, too - it was sort of like a fantasy, being perched on a desk with a suited up businessman's hand in between your legs, all of it very forbidden but utterly delectable.

She bit his lip to signal him to go faster, and he did, earning another moan that he swallowed in a kiss. She reached a small hand between them and found the bulge in his trousers, Draco hissing when she made contact with it, and she waited a moment before slipping her hand through his waist band and gripping his bare member.

A few strokes later and he was moving much quicker against her now, and she broke away from his panting mouth to pepper his neck with kisses. One minute she was sucking his neck in the hopes of leaving a mark not unlike the ones she was surely covered in by now, and then the next he'd done something with his thumb and middle finger that made her suddenly throw her head back and cease her work on his erection, moaning as she reached her climax.

She took a moment before even attempting to regain her bearings, though she was aware that Draco's face was resting in the crook of her very exposed neck, while her chest heaved. Then he was gone, and she opened her eyes.

She watched as Draco loosened his tie before tearing it from his own neck, and she closed her still-splayed open legs while he unbuttoned his silk black shirt. It was cast aside, as was the similarly black undershirt he wore under it, and Hermione decided to rid herself of her awkwardly askew bra at the same time. She saw his Dark Mark for the second time in her life, the ugly tattoo marring the pale flesh of his left forearm, but it didn't repel her. It was not who he was, nor had it ever been. Then his hands moved to his belt, and she stood up, taking his hands and moving them to his side. He let her turn him and push him against the desk before she undid his belt for him, kissing down his smooth chest as she pushed down his trousers and boxers at once. He had a handful of her bushy hair in his hands and didn't let go as she moved down his body. In a moment she was on her knees, and her warm tongue licked tantalizing around his twitching penis, forcing him to use all of his self-control to not just shove her head against him. Just when he was about to lose it, she took in his length at last, and he let out a groan that instantly brought her own arousal back to full force.

She'd never liked doing this to Ron, mostly because he didn't fit well into her mouth, so she was surprised at how much she enjoyed doing this for Draco. He let her know how much he liked it, with his voice and his body, but she'd only spent a few moments at it before his hands gently pushed her away.

He lifted her back to a standing position and kissed her, then murmured, "I'm not going to let you get me off that fast, Granger." Then he lifted her up against him once more, and carried her to the couch they'd had tea on. He lay her down flat on her back, and finally slid off her skirt. He left her heels on - those weren't hurting anyone, after all - and as he took in her nude form once more, without the haze of drunkenness, he found he couldn't resist a taste of her.

He took a smooth leg and gently bent it so that her foot was resting flat on the couch, and kissed languidly down the inside of her thigh until he reached his destination. Her moans rang out and her back arched, and her fingers pulled on his hair again, eliciting another groan from his throat. The vibration of his voice was unexpected and she cried out again at the sensation, inspiring him to employ the use of his voice a few more times. The last time was what did it, along with his impossibly skilled tongue, and she dug her nails into his head as she climaxed for the second time.

He savored every last quiver and moan from her until she relaxed into a limp, seemingly boneless form, her arms stretched out above her head and legs shaking. He kissed tenderly up her body, her eyes opening only when he reached her lips. He kissed her gently and she smiled up at him. "How do you do that?"

He shrugged. "It's not over yet."

She very much doubted that she could reach orgasm a third time, as she felt utterly spent, but she knew he was aching for his own release, and she wanted to make it as good for him as he'd made it for her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he wasted no time plunging inside of her, groaning deeply in relief as he did. He started out with slow strokes, knowing if he went any faster he'd be done for in seconds, and kneaded one of her breasts with one hand while he kissed her neck. She moved with him, her eyes fluttering closed again, and he knew soon that he wasn't hitting the right spot inside of her. He shifted position a bit and then went back in deeply, and a gasp from her lips let him know he was back on track. Her eyes flew open and her fingers tightened on his back, and somehow, she found herself once again being worked up.

His head lowered and his mouth found her breast again, and her hips began grinding harder in response, allowing him to fill her up completely, just as she wanted, as he kept hitting that mysterious spot within her that only he had ever reached. She lost all sense of everything but him, and the sensations he was causing, and when his moving became erratic and rapid, his teeth bit down gently again on her nipple and she clenched around him as he poured himself into her, both of them crying out as their morning romp finally came to a close.

Draco collapsed in a heap on top of Hermione, both of them all heavy breaths and sated exhaustion, and she lay under his weight for an unknown period of time. His head was on her shoulder, and her fingers ran absently through his hair. She didn't know how long they stayed like that, only that she seemed to snap out of her daze when he lifted his head and softly kissed her lips.

Their eyes met and she reached a hand to his cheek, not wanting to say anything but unable to stop her brain from starting to berate her for her actions. It was eleven o'clock in the morning, and she'd just been... well... there really were no words she could think of for what Draco Malfoy had just done to her in the middle of his office, since it had been even more amazing than their first night together. This wasn't supposed to ever happen again, and yet, here she was.

Draco could see her thoughts begin to muddle her eyes and cut through the haze. She didn't seem capable of letting go for too long. "You don't have to do that, you know."

"Do what?" she asked.

"Overthink," he replied, touching a red bite mark on her neck with the tip of his finger.

"It's wrong," she said quietly.

"Maybe," he said. "But you stopped hurting. Even if just for a few moments."

"As if you care."

For some reason, this bothered him. He didn't think he cared, to be honest, but her accusation somehow... stung. That was odd.

"Can you let me up now?"

He looked down and fought the urge to smirk. "Dunno - I kind of like you at this angle."

She suddenly felt a bit self-conscious, but her clothes were all the way across the office, strewn on the floor next to his, except for her skirt. Draco saw her eyeing her clothes and rolled off of her, muttering, "Fine, I'll get your bloody clothes for you."

She watched as he strolled in all his naked glory to their clothes, and sat up just before he tossed hers into her arms. They dressed in silence, glancing at one another here and there, and once she was decent again, Hermione stood and retrieved her wand from its place on his desk. He picked his up as well, and waved it over Hermione's head wordlessly.

"What are you doing?" she asked, reaching to her hair, which suddenly felt smooth and a far cry from its previous shagged-senseless state.

"Just a little charm to help tame that bush on top of your head."

"Thanks," she muttered, stepping towards the window and peering out of it. The reporters were gone. She sighed and turned, and found herself inches away from Draco once again.

He lifted her chin with his finger and surveyed the damage he'd done to her neck, and then tapped his wand against each mark, temporarily hiding them from view. She couldn't help but shiver a little under his gentle touch, and when he locked eyes with her, she felt her breathing quicken just a bit.

He didn't know what he was doing, really, but he kissed her, feather-softly, as if he hadn't gotten enough of her lips in the previous hour, and she kissed him back after a moment's hesitation. There was something different about this kiss, something intimate, sweet even, and Hermione looked up at him a little curiously when he pulled away.

They shared a strange, lingering look before Draco caught himself and took a step back. He cleared his throat. "Well - I need to get back to work, so."

She nodded quickly and walked past him, reaching the door before she remembered to cast a Disillusionment charm over herself, just in case. Draco watched as she disappeared from view and vanished from his office, though he had a feeling they would surely meet again.

Hermione made her way back to the law office, desperately trying to push the last hour out of her mind, but she still felt Draco all over her, like they were still tangled up in each other, and she broke into a nervous sweat as she lifted the Disillusionment charm and re-entered the room that she had escaped before. Only Jonas was left, and he rose when she walked inside.

"Mrs. Weas- Miss Granger, I received your Patronus," he said as she visibly relaxed at the lack of Ron and Skeeter. "I'm glad you've returned safely."

She nodded. "I'm sorry I disappeared – I just…"

"No worries, dear, I understand. I've scheduled another meeting for next week with Mr. Weasley, and I think it's for the best anyway – when the yelling starts, like it did today, nothing productive usually results."

Hermione nodded again. "I know. I kind of lost it."

Jonas smiled. "We all lose it sooner or later."

Hermione suspected that he didn't know just how true his words were. Soon they parted ways and she Apparated back to Harry and Ginny's house, a fresh new burden of secrets on her weary shoulders.


	5. When It Rains, It Pours

**A/N: I just want to sincerely thank everyone who's read and reviewed this story. This is the best response I've gotten to fic... ever. And I totally wasn't expecting it. Eleven reviews for a chapter that's not a final chapter? Awesomeness! Thank you guys, and as I've said before, if you guys have any ideas for the plot or something you'd like to see, let me know! :D**

Denial wasn't quite working anymore, but Hermione still put forth an impressive effort to forget what she'd done in Draco Malfoy's office only days ago as she prepared for work on a Monday morning. After doing her best to tame her unruly hair, she turned her wand to her neck, which was still covered in Draco's love bites from last week. It made it a lot harder to pretend it never happened when you had to magically cover up the evidence every day, and she very much preferred to pretend rather than accept the fact that she clearly had a problem. The first time she'd slept with him, she'd been able to blame it on the alcohol, but the second time had been the result of nothing but her own choices, her own apparent desires. She knew why she'd given in - despite how much she despised him, Draco was undeniably an amazing lover, and he somehow had the ability to make her stop hurting and stop thinking whenever he touched her. Nothing else could ease the dull ache of her divorce or stop the constant stream of undying and over analytical thoughts inside of her mind.

But none of that mattered. They were both married, never mind that one was in the midst of a divorce and the other was exceedingly miserable - it was all very, very wrong, and Hermione didn't even know who she was anymore. It was bad enough that she'd done something as uncharacteristic as jump into the bed (or the couch) of a married man as soon as Ron dumped her, but the fact that she'd chosen Malfoy - that may have been the most bewildering part of all. After all, this was the man who spent his life tormenting her and her friends, and had even watched her be tortured by his aunt in his own house. She still had a thin scar on her neck where Bellatrix had cut her that night, and now that she thought of it, Draco did seem to avoid that part of her neck when he attacked it with his lips.

She sighed and looked at her reflection in the mirror once more before leaving for work. She told herself she was being ridiculous - _of course_ she knew who she was. It was her life that had taken a wrong turn, and she'd simply made a few mistakes since her marriage unraveled. That's all it was. And even Hermione Granger was allowed to mistakes from time to time.

Satisfied with her latest self-analyzation, Hermione squared her shoulders and headed to the sitting room to use the Floo. Ginny was still asleep with James, and Harry had already left for the day. She tossed in her Floo powder and stepped into the flames, then stepped out into the Ministry.

She put on a smile and wished several folks a good morning as she walked to her office, determined to turn over a new, more cheerful leaf today. She'd almost convinced herself to be genuinely cheerful when she passed her boss' office and glanced inside the unusually open door, finding the Secretary apparently packing his things.

"Mr. Secretary?" Hermione said cautiously, halting outside the door.

"Oh, there you are, Mrs. Weas- Miss - yes, well, come in," the older man stammered, placing the framed photos on his desk carefully into his trunk with a wave of his wand. "Bad news, I'm afraid."

"Bad news?" she repeated, stepping inside.

"Yes," he sighed. "I'm sorry that this is so short notice, but I saw a healer over the weekend, and well - it wasn't a particularly good visit."

"Oh - I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"As am I," he replied. "But I've decided to resign so I can focus on my health, try to live a few more years."

She nodded. "Of course - is there anything I can do? To help?"

"Oh, dear girl, I do wish there was," he said. "But I do have a bit more bad news."

She looked on, her worried eyes growing yet more perplexed.

"You know how quickly the Ministry works, and, well, they've already appointed my replacement. Some bloke named Armus McAllister. Apparently been after a job in this department for some time. The problem is, he already has an assistant that he requested transfer along with him."

Hermione stared blankly for a moment before her eyes widened. "Oh!"

"I'm truly sorry - I tried to persuade them to allow you to keep a position here, but it's out of my hands now."

_Perfect_. Just perfect. She nodded, her brain switching to polite autopilot to keep from having a fit. "I understand. Thank you for your help, sir."

He gave her a small smile, and she paused for a moment before leaving his office for hers, to start packing her things. This was all so ridiculous, she almost felt like laughing, but she was too angry. She walked inside her tiny office and stared at it as if it was the office's fault she'd gotten sacked.

It was especially unfair when she considered how overqualified she was for her job anyway, but she didn't mind before because she didn't want special treatment, or for her career to be fast tracked because of her name. She'd put in her hard work knowing that it would pay off eventually, and she'd been okay with that - but now what? A new Secretary is appointed and she's hung out to dry?

She clenched her jaw and started gathering her things the hard way, without magic, depositing what little personal possessions she kept in her office into a small box. She fumed the whole time, angry at the thought of starting over, sending her resume to every place she could, maybe trying to get a job in another Ministry department, but it only made her more irritated. She was here, in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because she wanted her career to be here, where she could make a difference and bring about equality amongst the magical races. She didn't want to work in another department.

Maybe she could speak to the new Secretary and work something out, to stay in the department. She would be fine with relocating to the Goblin Liaison office, or House-Elf Relocation - she would be perfectly fine with that. Perhaps it was all a misunderstanding. Yes, that was what she'd do. She would wait for this McAllister man to arrive, and she would speak to him then.

Two hours later, after successfully pulling aside McAllister, she found herself clutching her box tensely as she stormed to the Floo exits, completely disgruntled and utterly confused.

McAllister didn't want her anywhere in the department.

His feeble reasonings (not enough experience for the transfers she requested, his desire to take the department in a "fresh new direction") made it clear that he simply did not like her, and did not want her around. It wasn't the first time someone had singled her out as someone to be avoided just because she happened to be a famous war hero with very well known views, but it was the first time it had actually cost her a job. She thought about going to Minister Shacklebolt to protest, as she knew she could always have his ear when she requested it, but she cringed at the thought - if he overrode McAllister on the matter, she would consider that special treatment, as would the world, and she was not okay with such a prospect.

She passed Harry's office on her way out and found that he was gone, probably to arrest somebody. She frowned and continued to the exits, and Flooed briefly to Harry and Ginny's house to place her office things in her room. Ginny was apparently still asleep - just how long was James sleeping today? - and when she went back to the fireplace, she couldn't think of anywhere to go. She didn't want to stay here, but where was she supposed to go?

She decided on Diagon Alley, for no real reason, and a moment later she was walking down the street along the shops, and she nearly instantly regretted her choice of destination. She'd momentarily forgotten that everyone knew who she was and had an obnoxious interest in her now that she was getting divorced, but she was quickly reminded when the eyes of every witch and wizard in the alley were turned on her.

She frowned and pushed past the crowd, soon finding one of her favorite stores, Flourish & Botts, and she decided to take shelter in the bookshop.

The smell of fresh parchment filled her nose as soon as she stepped inside the place, reminding her of a simpler time, when she was young and knew nothing of death, wars, or divorces, but only of the wonder of magic and the seemingly endless possibilities her future held. The nostalgia was bittersweet, and she frowned a bit more until she found a shelf of newly released books. Maybe a new, as yet unread book would lift her spirits a bit – they usually did.

"Mrs. Weasley!" the shop's owner called from across the store as he bagged a few books for a family. "What a surprise! It's lovely to see you!"

Hermione smiled weakly and waved, then darted out of the man's line of sight. She plucked out a book on 1,000 newly discovered uses of some sort of herb and opened it, but it couldn't hold her attention.

She didn't even know why she was here. She should be at home, putting together a magical resume, or sending owls to other ministry departments to ask if they had any open positions, not wandering around a bookstore trying to distract herself from her latest woes.

A soft ding of a bell indicated a new customer had walked inside, and Hermione sighed as she willed herself to just leave and Apparate home. She placed the book back on the shelf and walked out into the middle of the store, only to widen her eyes and immediately jump back behind the safety of a bookshelf. Because nothing in life was fair or decent anymore, Draco and Astoria Malfoy had just walked in, and Hermione was quite sure Draco had seen her panic and take cover.

She rolled her eyes and felt her face start to burn, feeling stupid and trapped, and wondering what in the world they were doing in a bookstore on a Monday morning anyway. As if to answer her question, she heard Astoria's voice waft through the air. "It's a relatively new book, but it should be near the potions section..."

"Alright. Hey, I'll catch up with you in a moment, I want to check the Quidditch section," Draco's voice said, and with horror, Hermione looked up and realized she was hiding behind the Quidditch section. She moved to make a quick getaway, but then Draco's blonde head appeared from around the corner.

"Fancy seeing you here, Granger," he grinned, and Hermione stalled her efforts to run with a sigh. "Especially browsing books about Quidditch. Why did you feel the need to hide when you saw us?"

"Why do you think?" she hissed. "I saw you and her and I panicked."

"No need to panic," he shrugged, still grinning. "Why so guilty looking?"

She glared at him, but he seemed to relish her reaction and her still-scarlet face. "Keep your voice down."

"Why? I swear, I haven't the slightest idea why you're acting so twitchy."

The glee in his voice was unmistakable. "You're awful - utterly awful!"

He shrugged. "Why are you here, anyway? Day off?"

She laughed humorlessly. "Of sorts. I got sacked today."

Draco's eyes widened. "Sacked?"

She nodded. "As you can see, my day continues to get worse."

"But why would they sack you?"

She sighed impatiently. "It's a long story - new Secretary, and he doesn't like me, apparently. Why do you even care?"

"No need to be hostile," Draco replied. "I'm not the one that sacked you."

Hermione crossed her arms ad glanced around the bookshelf, confirming that Astoria was still far away, browsing titles. "Well, if you happen to know of anyone who's hiring, let me know."

Draco paused, then said, "You could come work for me."

Hermione looked over at him slowly. "Very funny."

"I'm serious," he said. "I've been looking for someone familiar with Muggle culture to come on board and provide a new perspective but nobody's interested, which is understandable, I suppose, but I still need someone."

"Provide a new perspective for what?" Hermione inquired.

"Well, right now there's a bit of an effort with some wizarding businesses to modernize and incorporate Muggle technology in their products. I'm interested in that but I have no idea what an Internet is. Or a television. Do you happen to know what a 'mobile telephone' is?"

Hermione thought for a moment that Draco almost sounded like Arthur Weasley. "I do."

"Well, nobody in my company does. That's why I need someone like you. I'll pay you twice as much as you made at the Ministry."

Hermione's eyes bulged a little bit. Twice as much was a substantial amount of galleons, far more than she hoped to make for a few years yet. "But -"

"There you are, darling!"

Suddenly Astoria appeared, giving her husband a small smile before turning her blue eyes on Hermione. "Have I interrupted something?" she asked unpleasantly, giving Hermione an appraising, suspicious look.

"Not at all," Draco said, unfazed. "Miss Granger and I were just discussing business, actually."

"And what business do you have with her?" Astoria asked, the word _her_ laced with disgust. Hermione refused to wither under the woman's disdainful gaze.

"That would be up to her," Draco said. "Consider my offer, Granger?"

She nodded, and to her relief, Astoria led her husband away to pay for the book tucked under her arm, though not before he gave Hermione a wink that nobody else saw.

_Oh, Merlin_, she thought to herself. She could not imagine working for Malfoy every day, not even if they hadn't shagged twice by now. He was vile and his company was probably full of other vile men and women who would look down on her like she was scum, as Astoria just had. Not to mention, helping to modernize wizarding businesses was hardly what she wanted to do with her career.

She would just have to owl him later and say thanks, but no thanks, despite how tempting the offer was when she thought about the salary he'd mentioned. If she was going to be ordered to pay Ron spousal maintenance soon, she would need the extra galleons just feed herself, never mind pay for her own place.

She left the bookstore to Apparate home, but just as she stepped into the street, she was faced with a sight even worse than Draco and Astoria clasping hands. Across the street, outside of an ice cream shop, was Ron and Hannah, holding hands and taking licks off of one another's cones. It was a particularly revolting sight, and Hermione thought she may actually vomit. They hadn't even signed any papers yet, and yet there was her husband, strolling through Diagon Alley with Neville's wife, being very openly and very publicly affectionate. Neither of them noticed her watching them, so she took out her wand and decided to make their day a little bit less blissful.

She shot a hex at Hannah's feet, and the witch immediately faceplanted hard into the street and took Ron down with her. Hermione watched with satisfaction as they slowly regained their bearings and got back up, having smashed their ice creams into their clothes on the way down. They looked around wildly, and Ron's eyes found Hermione's first. His face reddened and Hermione smirked, then turned on the spot and vanished.

At least the morning hadn't been a total loss.

She Apparated outside of Harry and Ginny's home and walked through the wards that guarded the house after they recognized her, and when she stepped inside the house, the smell of pancakes was thick in the air. She walked inside the kitchen and smiled at the sight of James in his high chair, covered in maple syrup and gooey bits of pancake, and of Ginny hurriedly stuffing her face with her breakfast before James got bored and started screeching to be let down.

"Finally woke up, I see," Hermione said, and Ginny looked up in surprise.

"Yeah, James and I had a bit of a lie in - what are you doing home? I thought you worked today."

Hermione shook her head and sat down at the table beside Ginny. "I was supposed to before I got sacked."

Ginny's eyes became so large they put Luna's to shame. "Sacked? What in bloody hell do you mean sacked?"

Hermione recounted her entire wretched morning, watching Ginny's expression become progressively more outraged with the first part of the story, then curious and intrigued when she told her of Malfoy's offer, and then finally, back to outraged briefly before she let out a hearty laugh at how Hermione had ruined her brother's morning.

"Good for you, they bloody deserve it! If I were there, I'd have sent my Bat Bogey hex on both of them! What is he thinking, acting like that with her when you aren't even divorced yet?" Ginny ranted, cleaning James' face with a swish of her wand.

Hermione shrugged. "It doesn't matter. They deserve each other."

Ginny grimaced. "Poor Neville. I swear, so much is mucked up right now. But I really think you should at least talk to my dad about your job -"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't want special treatment."

"Bloody hell, Hermione, you've been saying that for years now and I think it's high time you suck it up and take some ruddy special treatment," Ginny scolded. "Or at least take up Malfoy on his offer."

Now it was Hermione's eyes turn to widen. "You can't be serious."

"Well, why not?" Ginny asked, hoisting James out of his chair and placing him on her hip. "It's good money and even Harry says he's not the git he used to be."

"He does?" Hermione asked, eyes still wider.

"Well, he still can't stand him and wants to hex him whenever they have their meetings, but he says that as far as his beliefs go, he has no doubt he's a changed man." Then Ginny added, "Changed ferret, I should say."

"I don't know... I mean, I've thought the same thing from what I've read in the papers the last few years, but working with him every day -" Hermione outwardly cringed.

Ginny shrugged, moving James to her lap as she sat back down. "Yeah, it probably wouldn't be the most pleasant thing in the world. But if you get some ridiculous judge who actually sides with my idiot brother and makes you pay him maintenance, you're going to need the money. And you won't find a better salary at the Ministry unless you finally accept some special treatment. Which I find to be utterly ridiculous, mind you."

Hermione sighed. She hated the fact that she couldn't be honest with Ginny about exactly why working for Malfoy and seeing him every day would be so awful. "I can't believe these are my options."

"It's outrageous, what happened today," Ginny agreed. "Especially considering the timing. But I guess it's true, what they say - when it rains, it pours."

Indeed. Hermione spent the day combing the _Daily Prophet_'s job section and wracking her brain trying to think of alternatives to her current choices for employment, but by the end of the day, she had nothing, and Harry had even agreed with Ginny when he came home from a long day's work. Hermione didn't know what was more bizarre - the fact that Harry and Ginny both thought that her being employed by their school archenemy was an acceptable idea, or that the reason why she didn't want to was because Draco had now seen her naked twice and she feared having to look him in the eye every day.

So she spent the night mulling things over, and it was quite late before she reached her decision. She watched her owl fly out of her window and sat on the bed with a bit of anxiety, not knowing how in the world this was going to work.

Meanwhile, Draco was in the Manor's enormous kitchen, much to the chagrin of his elves, making his own tea in nothing but a pair of boxers. Astoria was asleep, after having made him have sex with her in the strangest position he'd ever seen. She claimed the odd position would aid pregnancy, according to the book on magical fertility she'd made him buy earlier that day, and Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes. She should have just gone to a healer after the first year of not conceiving, he thought, but she was far too proud and stubborn to do such a thing. To Astoria, the very suggestion that she may be infertile was the most abhorrent, unspeakable idea that could be put into words. This was true for any pureblooded high society witch - if they couldn't bear children, then they became useless in the eyes of their husbands and were usually quietly divorced and rarely remarried. The thing was, Draco really did need a child. He didn't care if he had a son or daughter, but his mother kept reminding him that he was the last Malfoy man alive, and he had to continue the bloodline, or else he would also happen to be the very last Malfoy man. Of course, he was only 24 years old, so he saw no use in panicking and rushing over this, but it had been four years since he and Astoria had been trying to conceive. Something was clearly wrong, and it wasn't him - he'd already been to a healer and been cleared. It was Astoria who was too paralyzed by fear to get herself checked out.

Recently she had implemented the rule that they must sleep together every other night, without exception, and by now it was getting to the point where he could nearly sleep through it. It was like eating dinner or getting a haircut, utterly routine and boring, predictable, and most concernedly, Draco found he had to constantly be thinking about somebody else to even make it through doing the deed. The ghastly thing about it was the fact that it had been Granger's face that kept popping up in his mind in the heat of the moment, especially ever since their office romp last week. He found himself not scoping witches out for one night stands as he normally did, and he supposed it was for one of two reasons: one, he was so worn out from sex with Astoria that he simply didn't want to do it any more than he had to, or two, it was because he'd rather have Granger again than some slag who wanted a taste of him. He was starting to think it was a little of both.

He poured steaming hot water from a kettle into his mug and placed a teabag inside, watching the water darken slowly as he continued his deliberative thoughts. He really did hope Granger took the job, for several reasons. First, he knew she was exactly the right person for the job - intelligent, hard-working and well-versed in everything Muggle - and second, the thought of being in close proximity to her every day was highly intriguing. After finding out that she was somehow wilder sober than drunk, he hadn't once stopped thinking about her, and imagining what more he would do to her if given the chance.

Never in a million years would he had guessed that Hermione Granger of all people would be the one to get so stuck in his head, but he suspected it was their volatile history that made their chemistry so strangely addicting. They were two people who never should have even touched one another, but after doing a whole lot more than touching, they'd somehow discovered that they actually made quite brilliant lovers.

Go figure.

As he brought the uncooled tea to his lips, Draco heard the distinct _tap tap tap_ of an owl fluttering against the large bay windows of the adjacent dining room, and he sauntered out of the kitchen to let the owl in. He opened the window just a few inches and the small light brown owl hurled herself inside, then shook out its feathers and flew to Draco's tabletop. The bird pecked at his hands annoyingly as he untied the letter from its leg, and he took a step back to get away from its beak to read the letter.

_Mr. Malfoy, _

_After much consideration I've decided to accept your offer of employment, under the condition that you agree to behave in a professional manner at all times, with no exceptions. Also, I do not intend to make this a permanent career change, so as long as you are okay with this being a temporary arrangement, I will be happy to start soon. Thank you for the opportunity. _

_Regards,_

_Hermione Granger_

Draco smirked at everything from the humorously formal "Mr. Malfoy" to her demand that he behave professionally with her at all times. He left the dining room briefly to retrieve a quill and parchment, deciding that agreeing to her terms suited him just fine. He was quite intrigued to see how long it would take for Granger to ignore her own conditions and instigate another tryst. After all, it wasn't as if Draco was the only responsible party to their last two… incidents. He had every right to demand that she remain professional as well, though he sincerely hoped she wouldn't. Where would be the fun in that?

_Ms. Granger_

_Thank you for accepting my offer. I believe you will find myself to be the utmost professional and needn't worry yourself about any untoward behavior. Assuming you are free, I will see you at 8 A.M tomorrow morning. I believe you know where our headquarters is located. I look forward to beginning our partnership. _

_Sincerely,_

_Draco Malfoy_

The smirk stayed on his face as he tied his response to the owl's leg and sent it off into the night. This would be undoubtedly interesting. _**  
**_


	6. As Unprofessional As You Want Me to Be

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for all of the lovely reviews... and thank you to one of the anonymous reviewers, whose ideas gave me quite a bit to think about as far as the plot goes... my brain is bursting with ideas for this plot haha. :D**

Hermione stood outside of Malfoy Enterprises, dressed in her most professional-looking ensemble, more nervous than she'd been in years. She stared up at the large building and tried to steel herself, assuring herself that she had no reason to be nervous. After all, she was only starting a brand new job at a company that used to fund efforts to murder her and her friends and just happened to be headed by Draco Malfoy, who'd personally hired her to be something of a consultant on Muggle technology after, er, "interviewing" her in his own peculiar way, twice. Nothing but another day in the life**.**

Hermione willed one foot in front of the other and pushed open the large door, swallowing her anxiety and smiling tentatively at the woman at the welcome desk. She had short, dark blonde hair and a long nose that marred an otherwise pretty face, though one wouldn't know by the sour look she wore. It was reminiscent of Pansy Parkinson and her tendency to walk around looking as if she were constantly sniffing something unpleasant. "Good morning," Hermione said lightly.

"Mmm," the woman grunted. "You're here early."

Hermione glanced at a clock behind the desk, which revealed the time to be 7:45. The woman stood. "Come on, I'll show you to your office. Mr. Malfoy's not in yet but he owled me where to take you if you got here before him."

Hermione followed her up the staircase to the desk's left, and when they reached the top they headed down a hallway peppered with doors and portraits of who appeared to be Malfoy men over the years. They all had the same pointed face, gray eyes, and pale blonde hair, and it was a bit unsettling, especially when they turned a disdainful eye on her.

"Don't mind the portraits," the woman said in a bored tone. "Mr. Malfoy usually covers them anyway when he's here, especially the one of his father."

"Oh - what's your name? I didn't get it back at the desk," Hermione said, trying to ignore the prying eyes.

"Hyacinth Redstone," the woman said, still sounding as if she were half-snoozing. "Here's your office."

Hyacinth stopped in front of an office and pushed open the door with one hand, taking out her wand and raising the blinds with a swish of the wood to illuminate the room. Hermione stepped inside and was relieved that her new office was about twice the size as her old one, and that the chair behind her desk looked intriguingly comfortable.

"Have fun," Hyacinth muttered, stuffing her wand back inside her robes and turning to head back down the hall.

"Oh - thank you, Hyacinth," Hermione said quickly, but the other woman merely looked at her with a slightly annoyed, unpleasant expression before walking away. Hermione furrowed her brows for a moment before turning her eyes back to the the office before her. She produced a small box from a pocket of her tweed blazer and placed it on the desk, then pointed her wand at it and enlarged it. The box contained the small amount of personal possessions she chose to have with her at her old office - a framed photo of her parents as well as one of herself, Harry, Ginny, and Ron (whose presence in the photo she simply chose to ignore these days), her favorite quills, a stack of new parchment, and a small paperweight that her mother had sent her when she first began her work at the Ministry. She frowned when she thought of her parents - they'd been sending her letters every other day, urging her to come home for a visit and let them console her about the divorce. They didn't even know about her job loss yet, but once they did, she surely would not be able to put off a visit any longer. It wasn't that she didn't want to see them, but it was exhausting keeping secrets just from Harry and Ginny, let alone her mum and dad.

She didn't realize she was staring absently at her parents' photo until a voice coming from the doorway nearly scared her half to death. "I see you've found your office."

After jumping like a frightened cat, Hermione placed a hand on her chest and twirled around. It was Draco, of course, leaning against her doorframe, clutching a cup of coffee, dressed in one of his signature black designer suits, grinning lazily at her. She rolled her eyes. "Don't you know how to knock?"

"Door was open," he shrugged.

"Still," she said, "it's too early to be sneaking up on people and scaring them to death."

"Sorry," he smirked. "Anyway, come with me. I'll give you a brief tour and an idea of what you'll be doing while you're here. Oh, and we have a board meeting at 9 where I'll be introducing you."

Hermione's eyes widened a little as she followed him into the hallway. "Introducing me?"

He nodded. "Is there a problem?"

"No, that's just... really soon."

"The sooner the better," Draco said, waving his wand to the wall and causing black curtains to fall over the portraits of his ancestors. "And that way if anybody has a problem with it , I can deal with them early on."

"Is that likely?" she asked.

He paused for a moment, then said, "A few of the older men on the board are set in their ways and think modernization is a crackpot idea and that I'm ruining the company they've been involved with for longer than I've been alive, and that my father is rolling over in his grave ,etcetera - I don't particularly care what their opinions are. The rest of the company is behind me. But you might get a little bit of resistance from the dinosaurs."

Well, it didn't sound as bad as she'd thought it would be, she admitted silently to herself. She watched as a curtain fell over the last portrait of the hallway and she asked, "Why do you cover them?"

"Because if I don't, they spend the day yelling at me about how I've destroyed everything they worked for in their lives," he said with a small grin. "I take that as a positive, but I still don't want to hear it all day."

Then they reached a lift, which proved to be much less shaky than the one at the Ministry that Hermione was used to, and the tour began. He showed her the different floors, explained the different departments, showed her where their small owlery, cafe, and kitchens were located (along with a few elves whom Hermione was happy and more than a little surprised to learn received somewhat fair wages from him), and before she knew it, she was following him to his office.

"... Anyway, I'll get you the list of our businesses that have proposed different ideas so you can sift through them and see what you find to be feasible..."

She nodded, barely hearing what he was saying as she found herself walking inside his office for the second time in her life. She eyed the leather couch they'd made love on as he strutted to his desk, opening a drawer and not noticing her discomfort until he wheeled around and handed her a thick stack of parchment. He followed her eyes to the couch and suppressed a smirk. "Not having any unprofessional thoughts, are we?"

She snapped her eyes hack up and quickly yanked the parchment from his hand. "Of course not."

"Of course not," he repeated, the smirk finally overpowering his lips.

Then there was a knock on his open door, and Hermione turned to find Hyacinth standing in the doorway, looking apathetically from Hermione to Draco. "These just came for you, sir."

She walked inside and handed Draco two small packages. "Thank you," he said as he took them from her hands, not noticing the glares she shot the both of them as she left his office.

Hermione waited until she knew Hyacinth was far out of earshot to ask, "What's wrong with her?"

"Hmm? Oh, Hyacinth," Draco said with a small groan, tossing the packages on his desk. "She's been trying to shag me since the day I hired her. There's only so many ways to say no before you have to start getting mean."

"Oh," Hermione muttered. Well, at least Draco wasn't the biggest man-whore on earth, then. Until now, she'd assumed he was the type to shag anything that walked.

"So, come follow me to the board room, and you can look through the lists I gave you while we wait for the meeting to start," Draco said, motioning for her to follow him out into ten hallway once more. The board room ended up being on the very top floor, surrounded by full length windows that boasted quite the view of London. A huge white oval shaped table took up most of the room, and when Draco took a seat at the head of the table, he motioned for Hermione to take a seat next to him. She obliged, but not without feeling a bit awkward at the same time. Before he could pick up on her discomfort, the board room door opened and the table quickly filled with the members of the board of directors. Most were men, of older age, though there were a few who looked to be around Draco's age, most likely due to the untimely deaths of their fathers as well. Only one woman was among them, and Hermione unmistakably recognized her as Draco's mother. She took a seat near her son and set her icy blue eyes upon Hermione, her expression blank at first before it changed to something Hermione could only interpret as a confused disapproval. She looked away, now feeling exponentially more uncomfortable.

"Right then," Draco said in a confident voice once all the chairs were filled. "Good morning, everyone. First thing I want to do is introduce the head of our new Muggle research department, Hermione Granger."

Hermione blinked, previously unaware that she would be directing her own entire department until this very moment, and she wasn't the only one who was surprised. Every eye became fixed upon her, and a few looked at her with the same sort of disgust that Draco did during their school years. Narcissa kept her gaze neutral. "As you all know, I've decided to take the company in a new direction, and Miss Granger's department shall be crucial in our efforts to modernize and blaze a trail of innovation in Wizarding society. Now -"

The oldest-looking man at the table, a balding, haughty-looking man dressed in loud orange robes and a matching wizard's hat, snorted loudly. "I believe you mean your efforts to disgrace and destroy what used to be the foremost company in the Wizarding world."

Draco raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, apparently amused. "You've made your opinion of this matter well known already, Johnston. Unfortunately, the board agrees with me. So kindly keep your opinions to yourself, or feel free to resign if my decisions are that reprehensible to you. I wouldn't want you to violate your conscious."

Hermione couldn't help but think that Draco was enjoying the confrontation, by the amused tone of his voice. But Johnston didn't appear interested in closing his mouth. "Your father," he sneered, "would have never stood for such a ridiculous display, and he would have died rather than allow a mudblood to sit at this table."

Instantly, Hermione saw the enjoyment on Draco's face disappear. His silver eyes darkened and his head twitched to the side as he said, "Well, it's a good thing he's already dead then, isn't it?" Then Draco surveyed the board with his deadly serious eyes, and said, "I shall make this very clear, very early. I will not tolerate anyone's bigotry in this matter. If any of you want to cling to your outdated prejudices and refuse to come to terms with reality, then feel free to do so in your own lives, but not in my company. If any one of you objects to Miss Granger's presence due merely to her blood, then resign immediately."

Draco scanned the faces that surrounded him, looking at each one of them expectantly. Hermione's heart thudded in her chest, not due to the prejudice that was held against her - she was quite used to that - but rather by Draco's defense of her. After a moment, Johnston finally stood up, and with a swish of his bright robes, he walked to the door of the office. Another man quickly rose to follow him, also one of the older ones, and Johnston cast Draco one more look of utmost loathing as he twisted the knob open. "Shame on you, Malfoy. You are not fit to carry your father's name, let alone run the company of your ancestors."

Hermione couldn't see it, but Narcissa's eyes flashed dangerously towards the two men. Draco merely smiled. "I'll owl you if I happen to find a damn to give. Good day."

Hermione stifled a laugh, and Draco caught this from the corner of his eye. He grinned almost imperceptibly at her and then turned his eyes back to the table. "Anyone else?"

"I think," came a voice from a young, dark haired man who sat at the middle of the table, "it's safe to say the rest of us are quite in agreement with you, Mr. Malfoy, and I for one am excited to have Miss Granger aboard."

The others nodded and mumbled their agreements, and Hermione smiled a little bit. The young man who'd just spoken caught her eye, and the wolfish grin that he gave her was utterly transparent.

"Excellent," Draco said, and Hermione looked back down to the table. He shot the handsome young man a glare before he added, "Then on with business."

* * *

After the board meeting, Hermione returned to her office, drinking down a quick cup of tea before wheeling around with the intent of gathering up the four newly transferred employees who now reported to her for a brief meeting, but just as she stepped one foot out of her door, she nearly collided head on with a tall male figure.

"Oh- sorry!" she quickly exclaimed, looking up to see that it that the grinning young man from the board that she had nearly run directly into.

"Hey, no worries," he grinned, putting out a hand. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself back there - Phoenix Hart."

She shook his hand lightly. "Pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," he said, holding on to her hand a bit longer than was necessary.

"I'd love to stay and chat," she said, noticing how startlingly dark blue his eyes were, "but I have a department of employees I must meet."

"Of course, of course - if you need anything - "

"I'm rather confident she doesn't need anything of yours, Hart," a familiar voice drawled from a few feet down the hall. Hermione strained herself trying not to roll her eyes.

Phoenix turned to Draco and raised his eyebrows good-naturedly. "Just trying to be friendly, Malfoy."

"Bit too friendly for your own good at times, don't you think?" Draco said pointedly.

Phoenix gave a small laugh. "Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black." He then turned to Hermione and flashed a bright smile. "It was lovely meeting you, Miss Granger. Don't let this one give you a hard time."

"I think I can handle him," Hermione replied, now finding Phoenix more annoying than handsome. He seemed easier to look at when his mouth was closed.

"Undoubtedly. Good day, then," Phoenix said before turning and walking down the hallway. Hermione gave Draco a sideways glance.

"Don't look at me like that," Draco snapped. "That prat shags every single woman I hire."

Now Hermione allowed her eyes to roll. "Well, I'm not every single woman you've hired, am I?"

Now she saw amusement in his eyes once more. "Certainly not. Anyway, you dashed off rather quickly back there - I wanted to thank you for helping rid me of some dead weight."

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, well, I must admit, I expected much worse than only two men being outraged at my very presence."

He nodded. "Most of us have had enough time since the war to get over certain things, but obviously some men are set in their ways. One thing I wanted you to know, however, is that my mother didn't snub you," Draco said, referring to how quickly Narcissa had dashed from the room without a word once the meeting had concluded. "She doesn't know quite how to apologize for - well, you know."

"Yes," Hermione nodded quickly. Not only had Narcissa Malfoy once called Hermione "scum" to her face, but of course it was her drawing room that her own sister tortured her on the floor of all those years ago.

"My mother came around before I did," Draco said. "She's the main reason I'm not the idiot my father was."

"It's alright, really - I understand," Hermione insisted. "Thank you for explaining."

He nodded. "Do let me know if you hear anyone talking behind your back or something like that, alright? Not everyone is so forthcoming with their biases."

"Of course," she said.

He nodded again, then shoved his hands into his pockets. "Shall I introduce you to your new department?"

"Sure," she replied.

"Follow me, then," he grinned, leading her down the hallway. "Fancy joining me for lunch in an hour?"

"Oh - er," she stammered, "I - I don't know." He glanced at her with lowered brows and she blushed a little. "It's just - I'll probably want to work through lunch."

His expression became a knowing one, and she could see that he wanted terribly to say something along the lines of, _do you not trust yourself to be alone with me?_ or,_ oh, I affect you that much, do I?,_ but he bit his tongue - literally. He looked as if he was in pain for how badly he wanted to taunt her. Instead, he finally said, "Well, the offer stands," and went on to introduce her to her new department.

* * *

By the end of the day, Hermione's head was so full of information and new names and faces that it spun a little, but she found that she thoroughly enjoyed how busy her day had been. She hadn't thought about Ron or their divorce once, and she had been treated surprisingly well by everyone that she had met (minus Hyancinth, who still grunted and glared at her). She did end up working through lunch, but Draco had sent an elf to her office with a tray of food for her, without being asked. She'd smiled at the gesture despite herself, and when it came time to leave, she knocked on his slightly ajar office door when she reached it in the hallway.

"Come in," came his slightly tired-sounding voice. She crept inside, trying not to be put off by the sight of his desk and couch anymore.

"I was just about to head home," she said as he looked up from a stack of parchment in his hand. His feet were propped up on his desk, his jacket and tie lay abandoned across his desk, and the top few buttons of his black shirt were undone. His hair had fallen from its sleek do and a few strands fell into his eyes, and she noted in her head that this was, by far, his best look that she'd seen. Then she quickly banished the thought and mentally scolded herself.

Draco glanced at his watch and nodded. "Alright. Have a good day?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I think so. When do you normally leave?"

"Now," he said, leaning forward in his chair and tossing the parchment down. "Although lately I've been staying til around eight."

She didn't want to ask whether this was due to a heavy workload or to Draco's miserable homelife. She watched as he gathered up his jacket and tie, put out the fireplace with a swish of his wand, and motioned for her to lead the way back into the hall. She shivered when she felt a hand rest briefly on the small of her back as she turned and began to walk, and though she knew this was not an unusual gesture, it still felt dangerous coming from Draco. Luckily, he removed the hand quickly, and soon they were in the hall.

"I usually Apparate home, rather than Floo," he said, "but if you prefer to Floo, you can use the fireplace down on the first floor."

"Apparating's fine," she said, and together they walked to the lifts. Once inside, she felt discomfort creeping back up on her at being alone with him, though she couldn't say the discomfort was entirely unpleasant. She glanced sideways at him as the lift creaked into motion, and he pretended not to notice. As soon as she looked away, he placed his silver eyes upon her. "Have I been professional enough for you, Granger?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes," she said quickly, feeling her cheeks start to get hot. "Yes, you've been fine."

"Because, you know," he said, "if you change your mind, I can be as unprofessional as you want me to be."

Her heart sped up for some reason, and she gave him a harsh look despite how his words made her feel. He smirked and turned his eyes to the opening lift doors. "But I believe you already knew that."

She did, and she didn't need reminding. She suddenly felt hot, and she passed him up as they made their way out of the building. She tried to turn on the spot and Apparate, and when nothing happened, she felt a hand enclose upon hers. "Apparition point's over here."

"Thanks," she said as he guided her to the point, trying to ignore the fact that his skin was on hers and that it felt like fire. She jerked her hand back as soon as he released it, and he grinned.

"Bit twitchy, Granger."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said flatly.

"Right," he nodded, still grinning. "See you tomorrow morning then."

"See you," she said, just as Draco's eyes suddenly bore into hers in such a way that her breath caught in her throat. Then he vanished.

She let out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding, turned and disappeared with a crack.

* * *

Harry Potter had a strange feeling. And when Harry Potter got strange feelings, they usually turned out to be spot on. But this time, he thought he surely must be wrong.

First, there had been Hermione's dodgy behavior after the day Ron served her divorce papers. That had been due to a tryst she'd had, supposedly with an unknown Muggle. Harry used the word supposedly in his mind because, well, the idea of Hermione picking up a stranger to shag in the midst of her emotional distress seemed entirely implausible. The whole situation was implausible, but still.

He knew her very well, and she could see that she was still hiding something. When she'd told him it was a Muggle she'd picked up, there had been a nearly indiscernible flicker of something in her eyes, and it was enough to make Harry wonder.

Of course, it wasn't really any of his business who she did or didn't shag. But then there had been the next odd occurrence, during that last meeting with Malfoy at the Ministry. The blonde prat had watched Hermione intently the whole time, which was bizarre - the only times he'd stared at her before it was for the purpose of sneering and harassing her, but his face had been malice-free.

Harry had shrugged it off as probably nothing. But then, Malfoy offered Hermione a job. And Harry's conspiracy theories began anew.

It was the way Hermione flushed and seemed to grow uncomfortable whenever she heard or spoke Malfoy's name. It was the way she never seemed to look Harry in the eye when he was being discussed. It was the way her face softened when she'd recounted at the dinner table how Malfoy had defended her in front of his board of directors, and how she always seemed eager to change the topic from Malfoy to anything else.

There was one explanation, but it was undeniably mad. It was ludicrous, laughable, utterly impossible - he was quite sure that it was more likely that he would cross the path of the nonexistent Crumple-Horned Snorkack on his way to work tomorrow than it was that it been Malfoy, and not a random Myggle, that Hermione had shagged those weeks ago.

But it fit. It explained everything.

If it was true, it wasn't so much the fact that it was Malfoy she'd chosen that was bothersome. It was the ring that Malfoy wore on his left hand, and the fact that she now worked for him, that he found disturbing.

So, he decided to test the waters after dinner that night, after he and Ginny had managed to extract as much info from her as they could about Hermione's first day at the new job. When Ginny got up to take their dishes to the sink, Harry placed James into his lap as he turned his green eyes on Hermione. "So," he said, "you and Malfoy are getting on well then, I take it."

Her eyes flickered as she looked up. The same flicker as before. "I suppose."

Harry nodded. "Big change from the way he used to treat you."

She nodded a little too quickly. "That's a bit of an understatement."

"I noticed him looking at you a bit strangely at the Ministry a few weeks ago," Harry said, watching Hermione stiffen a bit.

She didn't seem to know how to answer this. "Oh?" she managed finally.

Harry nodded. "He was staring, and it was almost a little creepy. Any idea why he'd do that?"

He expected Hermione to laugh and say of course she didn't, and why should she care who Draco Malfoy gawked at? But instead she shook her head and looked back down into her tea. "No idea."

Harry had watched her for a moment, and it was then he knew his hunch was right. He could hardly believe it, but she was acting just as he'd suspected she would if it were true. She was still staring into her tea, and he nearly point-blank asked her if Malfoy was her lover until he was thwarted by Ginny returning to the room.

"Can I get your help with something, Hermione?" Ginny asked, and Hermione's face returned to normal when she looked up at the younger witch.

"Of course," Hermione smiled, and followed Ginny out of the room. While Ginny consulted Hermione on a few gift ideas for she and Harry's upcoming anniversary, Harry absently ran a hand through James' curls, unsure of how to proceed. A part of him still thought he must be barking, but at this point he didn't see how it couldn't be true. The only question was, should he confront Hermione, or not? His first thought was to definitely not, as it was still really none of his business, but his next was that she surely must need a friend right now.

In the end, he chose not to a word to her. And when she went to bed that night, a pair of silver eyes haunted her dreams, leaving her utterly unrested and unprepared to deal with seeing those same eyes throughout the next day.


	7. Negotiations

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed/favorited/alerted :D A few notes to the reviewers - Twizard2013, I like the way you think! (heehee) And to Teen Tyrant - aha, that makes sense now! I hate it when I think I'm logged in and I'm not. Thank you for your wonderful feedback :) **

Hermione had taken to leaving her office window open at all times, no matter the weather, due to the overwhelming amount of owls she received every hour. After a week at Malfoy Enterprises, word had spread, and every day she was being offered jobs back at the Ministry. The Minister himself had apologized for her firing, and the heads of nearly all of the Ministry departments had offered to spare her the fate of working for Draco Malfoy. The problem was, the jobs being offered were either completely out of her expertise (such as one in the Department of Magical Games and Sports), or they appeared to have been made up out of thin air just to give her a job and were thus nearly pointless. She appreciated the efforts, and she fully planned to return to the Ministry someday, but only when a legitimate position opened that she was actually qualified for. Not only that, but she wasn't one to quit a project until she was finished, and she was already knee-deep in her new job.

A few of the ideas she had come across were quite brilliant. One company that ME was in talks with wanted to patent a small handheld camera that would produce moving wizarding photos with all of the convenience of a muggle digital camera. Other ideas were not so brilliant, but there were several that Hermione already knew would be highly successful. Draco had her negotiating a deal with the camera company, and she was happy to discover she was actually quite good at her job.

Yesterday she'd gone looking at flats, and with her new salary, she didn't need to be frugal anymore. It was an odd feeling, and she was leaning towards taking one of the cheaper, smaller ones anyway, mostly because she didn't want an abundance of open space to remind her that her presence alone wasn't enough to fill it.

She glanced at her wristwatch and realized that she had to leave for her latest mediation with Ron in fifteen minutes. The meeting would be in the law office next door once again, so she needn't hurry, but she decided to get a move on anyway.

She walked out of her office and was so distracted by her general dread of her upcoming forced meeting with Ron that she was doubly startled by the sound of screams being hurtled at her from the walls surrounding her. She jumped and clutched a hand to her chest as she realized Draco had apparently forgotten to cover the portraits today, and employee heads began popping out of office doors as generations of Malfoy men shouted insults and sneers at Hermione.

_"Filthy mudblood!"_

"_What is this Muggle trash doing here, in the company built by noble Malfoy hands?"_

_"It's an outrage! A scandal!"_

Then there was a flash of blonde hair in front of her, and Draco slashed his wand angrily through the air. But the portraits seemed to be fighting the curtains that were being forced over them, and then there was a flash of black hair and a second wand began to aid Draco in his efforts.

When the portraits were silenced, Hermione looked up at Draco and realized Harry was standing behind him, wand out.

"Sorry about that," Draco said to Hermione before glancing behind him. "And by the way, I didn't need your help, Potter."

"No, you never do," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. "How could I have forgotten?"

"Try not to from now on," Draco sneered, and Hermione stifled a laugh.

Draco noticed this. "What's so funny?"

She shrugged but grinned a little bit. "Some things never change, is all."

"If you mean your little friend's habit of sticking his nose in places it doesn't belong, then yes, I reckon that will never change," Draco said before turning and heading back to his office with a stomp in his step.

Hermione turned her eyes to Harry and asked, "What are you doing here, anyway? I didn't expect to see you today."

"I had to follow up with Malfoy on one of the dark wizards he turned in," Harry shrugged, "and he said he was too busy to make it to the Ministry. So I came here. How are you?"

"Well, the mediation's in a few minutes, so I'm a little annoyed at the moment," Hermione replied, "but other than that, I'm quite good."

Harry nodded. "Come on, I'll walk you there."

Hermione smiled and followed Harry down the hallway, stalling when they reached Draco's office and she peered inside the open door to find Draco glaring at her behind his desk. She furrowed her brows and placed a hand upon Harry's arm. "You go on if you want, I need to ask Malfoy something."

"I'll wait," Harry said.

Hermione nodded and turned, then walked into Draco's office. This time he didn't bother to look up from his desk. "What's wrong?" she asked tentatively.

"Nothing," he muttered, flipping through a few pieces of parchment.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "I obviously did something to make you glare at me like I killed your owl or something."

Finally Draco looked up. "I thought we had an understanding."

Her eyes narrowed. "An understanding about what?"

"Don't pretend to be daft, it's not pretty on you," Draco spat.

"I am genuinely confused right now!"

Draco flicked his wand, and their conversation became silent to any potentially eavesdropping ears. "I was under the impression that you hadn't told anyone about us."

Hermione shivered, unsure if it was because Draco had just said "us" or because somebody apparently knew about their trysts. "I haven't!"

"Then how does Potter know?"

Hermione paled a bit. "P - Harry?" Draco rolled his eyes, but she was too concerned to be annoyed. "What did he say?"

"To stay away from you or 'else', as if I care - that's not the point. I work hard to keep my private life private, and I don't appreciate this."

Hermione shook her head and uncrossed her arms. "Are you joking? You've probably shagged half of London by now -"

"And nobody knew that, especially not tossers like Potter who can't keep their mouths shut!" Draco growled.

Hermione pursed her lips, somehow enraged by how he'd apparently agreed with her accusation. "You're revolting," she said quietly.

"And you're a liar," he retorted.

Her mouth fell open. "I am not! I never told Harry anything! He must have figured it out somehow! And anyway, what do you care? Your own wife already knows!"

"She doesn't know _who_," Draco hissed. "And half the time, neither do any of the ladies I see."

Somewhere in the midst of her becoming even more disgusted by his insinuation that he wiped the memories of his conquests, she managed to read in between the lines. "So this is because of my blood."

Draco scrunched up his face. "What?"

"You're angry because you're afraid Harry won't 'keep his mouth shut' and more people will find out you've defiled yourself with a mudblood."

Draco opened his mouth but nothing came out. Hermione shook her head and turned around, stomping towards the door.

"Granger - Granger!" he called, swiftly moving out from behind his desk to follow her.

"I have to go," she said flatly.

"Just wait - I didn't mean it like that!"

She wheeled around. "Like hell you didn't! What else could you have meant?"

"I just - all I meant was that I make sure my - mistakes - stay between me and the person I make them with," he said quietly.

"Like I said," Hermione said, "I didn't tell Harry anything. So sod off."

Draco then watched her leave his office, and he rubbed his eyes in frustration. For her part, Hermione found her anger quickly ebbing when she laid her eyes upon Harry waiting in the hallway for her. She felt her face begin to turn red, and she walked past him without a word.

But Harry, annoying as he ever was, called after her and jogged after her until they found themselves outside on the sidewalk. Hermione sighed and turned around. "Harry, please - I'm going to be late."

"What did he say to you back there?" Harry asked, ignoring her plea.

"What do you think?" Hermione asked, raising her voice a bit. "And by the way, I would have thought if you had a concern that you would have talked to me first before playing protective big brother."

Harry reddened a little at this. "I - I didn't mean to go off on him. It just sort of happened."

"Things just 'sort of happen' all the time, Harry," Hermione said pointedly. "Next time you have a suspicion, act like my friend and come talk to me about it first."

"Sorry," Harry muttered.

Hermione sighed. "I'll see you later, Harry."

He nodded, and she walked into the law office already in a bad mood.

* * *

By the end of the day, all Hermione wanted to do was crawl home and lay in bed until the next morning. She'd sat stone-faced through the mediation, tuning out Ron's whining so that she wasn't tempted to hex him from across the table. Her head had been somewhere else entirely anyway, and she chose to ignore Ron's ribbing about her new place of employment. In the end, she'd walked away after saying less than five words, relieved that their court date was set in two weeks. She was so done with the divorce that she was tempted to give in and pay spousal support just so she wouldn't have to see Ron'a face again.

On top of that, Loxley & Bergin, the company that was trying to develop the compact Wizarding camera, had sent her an owl at 4:30 saying that a 35% percent share of profits in exchange for ME's investment was simply too much. She'd already dropped it from 45%, and Draco had told her not to go under 35%. They were proposing 25%, and now she was forced to go and ask Draco if she could counter with 30%, which was the last thing she wanted to do.

Begrudgingly, she got up from her desk and walked unenthusiastically to Draco's office. His door was open as usual, and she knocked lightly on it from the doorway. The first face she saw was that of Phoenix Hart, who was sitting in front of Draco's desk and turned his head as soon as he heard her knock. He grinned the same wolfish grin he'd given her last week, and once again she fought not to roll her eyes. Draco's head poked out from behind that of Phoenix.

"Hey - I just had a question," Hermione said, lingering in the doorway.

Phoenix rose before Draco could answer, still grinning at Hermione as he said, "I'll be on my way, then. Good talk, Malfoy."

Draco rose as well and shook Phoenix's hand with a blank look on his face. Then Phoenix turned and gave Hermione a nod as he passed her, and she was once again struck by the dark blue hue of his eyes. They really were incredible, never mind the fact that they belonged to a man whose overall demeanor screamed "prat".

"Miss Granger," Phoenix said as he nodded.

She nodded lightly in response, and then she was alone with Draco. She was only a few steps inside his office, and Draco was loosening his tie as he stood in front of his desk. She spoke quickly, to get it over with. "Loxley and Bergin want 25%. I wanted to know if I could counter with 30%."

Draco removed his tie and tossed it across his desk. "Tell them it's 35% or nothing, and good luck finding someone else to invest in their product."

Hermione sighed. "All right." She then turned to leave, but Draco's voice stopped her.

"Wait."

She hesitantly turned around. Draco had taken a few more steps towards her. "Sorry about earlier."

She could tell that apologies were not something that came easily for Draco - it was written on his face how much he despised saying the words. "It's all sort of easy to block out and ignore," Draco added, "until Potter's in your face threatening you. Know what I mean?"

She shook her head. "Not really, no. I tend to obsess over my mistakes rather than ignore them."

She instantly regretted her choice of words, and the smirk that spread across Draco's face confirmed that he took her words as a confession that she obsessed over him. It was not exactly untrue, especially considering the fact that he tended to pop up in her dreams nearly every night, but she hadn't meant for her words to come out like that.

"See?" he grinned, "I'm not the only one who says things that come out in an entirely different way than I meant them."

"I've just had a bad day," Hermione said apologetically. "I haven't been sleeping well and I have to find a place soon, plus having to see Ron today - I'm just not quite myself. So I'm sorry as well, for earlier."

"Why haven't you been sleeping well?"

_Oh, no reason. I just see your stupid silver eyes in my dreams all night and I can't sleep because I don't know what to make of it_. "Stress, I suppose."

"I hope I haven't been working you too hard."

Hermione couldn't ignore the possible double meaning in his words, and her face flushed scarlet against her will. She looked down at her feet to hide it but Draco was already grinning. "No, it's fine."

"You know, it doesn't have to be like this," Draco said, striding towards her and closing the door with his wand so quietly that she didn't even notice. "The tension."

She opened her mouth, fully planning on denying the presence of any sort of tension at all, but he cut her off. "You say you'll only work for me if I remain professional at all times. But then your face turns bright red at the slightest thing I say, and your eyes undress me whenever you look at me."

"They do not!" she protested with a squeak.

"They do, Granger," he assured her, now standing in front of her. "And it's alright. I enjoy it. I enjoy watching you blush. I enjoy you, in general. You don't have to fight it."

"Of course I do," she replied. "You're married, and on top of that, now you're my employer!"

"I'm not suggesting you marry me, Granger," Draco said casually.

"Then what are you suggesting?"

He shrugged, and his silver eyes flashed, forcing her to suppress a shiver. "I can help you sleep at night, if you wanted. I can help your stress."

"I think," Hermione said with a small laugh, "if you knew me at all, you'd know that what you're suggesting would only add to my stress."

"Only if you chose to let it," he said. "I'll be honest with you - I haven't touched any woman except my wife since our first night."

Hermione looked at him strangely. Was she supposed to be impressed by this?

"I think about you more than I care to admit, especially now that I see you nearly every day. And I know I've gotten under your skin as well. I'm only suggesting a mutual sort of... arrangement."

"You must be mental," Hermione said, shaking her head.

He shrugged. "Maybe." Then he moved forward and she took a step back automatically.

"Don't," she whispered.

He raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

He was too close, and his familiar scent filled her nose as she felt the mix of anxiety, guilt and excitement that made these encounters so potent. She looked everywhere but at him as his finger tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Then his hand fell to her neck, where he placed two fingers upon her pulsing carotid artery. "Your pulse is racing."

Then his thumb brushed her cheeks. "You're becoming even more flushed." He looked deeply into her eyes. "Your eyes are darkened. I bet," he said in a dangerously low voice as he let his fingers run down the buttons of her blouse, "that you're even a little wet already."

This made her cheeks somehow become even more brightly colored. Then his lips brushed against her ear. "Mind if I find out?"

His hot breath and soft lips made her entire body tingle, and she knew where this was going if she didn't stop him right now. It took every ounce of her self control to tear herself away from him, but she did it. She stepped back and looked up into Draco's suddenly heavy lidded eyes. "I meant what I said before, about your behavior. I'll quit if you do this again."

He shrugged. "Why not quit now? I've already violated your conditions for employment. And we both know I'll probably do it again."

She let out a small cry of exasperation. "Then leave your wife! I will never understand why you won't just get divorced if she obviously isn't enough for you!"

"And what if I did?" he asked. "Would that change things? Or would you keep finding reasons to run away from me?"

"Honestly, yes! What good could possibly come of what you're suggesting?"

"The answer to that should be obvious," Draco grinned.

"I could never be involved with a man who treats his wife like some disposable, inconsequential possession of his that's barely worth a second thought," she said.

"You have no idea how my marriage ended up this way, Granger, and you don't know me quite as well as you think you do," he said, anger inflected in his voice. "Believe it or not, there are some things you don't understand."

"I think I understand perfectly well," she countered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must go send an owl."

She tried to open the door but when she twisted the knob, it refused to move. She turned back to Draco, hands on her hips. He crossed his arms with an amused expression. "You know," he drawled, "I'm not sure I find your behavior to be very professional, what with your odd interest in my marriage and your opinions of it."

"Fine, then fire me! I don't care, just let me out of here!" she exclaimed. When he continued to just stare at her like she was some sort of great piece of entertainment, she withdrew her wand. "If you don't let me out, I'll blast the door down."

Draco smirked and leaned against the back of his couch, and waved a hand as if to say _have a go_. Hermione raised her eyebrows and turned, pointing her wand at the door.

_Bombarda!_ she chanted, but the light that flew from her wand seemed to be harmlessly absorbed into the door. She tried the spell again, but with the same results. She turned back to Draco, who said, "Do you really think my office isn't warded against nearly every spell known to wizardkind?"

"This isn't funny," she said through her clenched jaw.

Draco rolled his eyes and waved his wand lazily. A click of the doorknob told Hermione that she was now free to leave. She shot him a contemptuous look before heading towards the door. "Prat."

"At least I'm not in denial of what I want."

She wanted to turn back around and insist that she did not want him, but she forced herself to keep walking. He was just so maddening, so enraging, and when he wound her up, she felt like she could rant at him for hours. Of course, she wanted to do more than just rant at him, but that was simply too bad - she was only here to make a living, and that was it.

She sent a belated owl to Loxley & Bergins, and Apparated home within the next fifteen minutes.

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep that night, as usual. She wandered out of her bedroom and into the kitchen, yawning as she put on a pot of tea, utterly sick of insomnia and sick of Draco Malfoy floating about inside of her thoughts. She was busy going over all of the reasons why he was vile and deserved only her utmost loathing when Harry's voice scared her senseless.

"Hey, Hermione."

Clutching at her chest for the second time that day, Hermione turned and gave a great sigh. "For heaven's sake, Harry!"

"Sorry," he grinned, taking a seat at the table. "I can't sleep."

"Me either," Hermione said, sinking into a seat as well while she waited for the water to boil. "I haven't had a proper night's sleep in a week."

"I'm not sure I've had a proper night's sleep in about seven years," Harry said with a small humorless laugh.

Hermione nodded sadly. She knew Harry still struggled with nightmares, even after all of this time. She herself would have the odd nightmare occasionally, but Harry's were constant.

"Anyway, sorry again about today," Harry said, thankfully changing the subject.

"It's alright," she said.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," Hermione sighed. "Although I'm kind of curious how you figured it out."

Harry shrugged. "I can read you pretty well. And I caught Malfoy staring at you awhile back. I sort of just put two and two together."

Hermione got up to grab the whistling tea kettle, berating herself for underestimating Harry's powers of deduction. He was very good at seeming to be as generally oblivious as Ron, which often caused even Hermione to forget that underneath that deceptive air, he was absolutely brilliant. She grabbed a second cup for Harry, and poured the hot water into their mugs before returning to the table.

"I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but I just don't understand how you - how Malfoy - I mean, is it a relationship, or -?"

"God, no," Hermione half-gasped. "It was just that one night. And one other time. But it won't happen again. It wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been drunk out of my mind."

"He's married," Harry said lamely.

She wanted to make a sarcastic comment at this very obvious statement, but she controlled herself. "I know. And technically so am I still. I'm not proud of this, Harry."

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty," Harry said, gripping his mug. "But you need to be careful. If Ron found out -"

"I don't care what Ron would have to say," Hermione snapped. "He already knows I was with someone, and it's none of his concern who it was."

Harry nodded. "I'm just saying, I don't really want to deal with hearing him whine about it for weeks all over again."

"Well, I doubt he's able to come to the same conclusion as you," Hermione said. "You haven't told Ginny, have you?"

Harry shook his head. "It's not my place to tell anyone."

"Thank you," Hermione sighed, taking a sip of her tea.

"But I'm not sure working with him is the best idea," Harry said. "There's a position in the Improper Use of Magic office that may be opening soon."

"Well, when one I'm qualified for opens up I'll gladly take it," she said. "But I must say, I am rather good at what I'm doing now."

"I don't doubt that, but is it worth dealing with the ferret every day?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't let him get to me," she lied.

Harry paused for a moment. "Do you have feelings for him?"

Something in Harry's green eyes was disarming, and she felt as if she couldn't bring herself to lie to him again. But she must. "No. No, of course not."

Harry inclined his head. He seemed to debate whether to challenge her or not, but she could tell he didn't believe her. The way she acted when she heard Malfoy's name was one of the reasons he'd figured out the truth, and the way she acted contradicted her claim of not having feelings for the man.

"Anyway," she said, breaking the sudden silence, "I wouldn't be so daft as to get involved with a married man."

Harry nodded, and she added, "His wife knows. Not about me specifically, but she knows he cheats, and she's okay with it. He told me that she just tells him to hide it better."

Harry grimaced. "Bloody hell."

"At least I didn't help destroy a happy marriage," Hermione sighed.

"Not like Hannah Abbot did."

Hermione scoffed. "Well, according to Ron, he hasn't been happy in years."

"We're surrounded by prats."

Hermione chuckled. "At least one of us isn't married to one."

Harry grinned. "True. I have a lot to be thankful for. And you'll find someone who makes you happy again."

Hermione smiled. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry took one last drink of his tea. "I'd better try to get to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

She nodded. "Goodnight."

Harry rose and padded off to bed, leaving Hermione once again alone with her thoughts. She stayed in the kitchen until she felt her eyes grow heavy, but when she retreated to bed, she still couldn't find rest. When sleep did finally come, as light and erratic as it was, her dreams were full of owls, parchment, yelling portraits, those blasted silver eyes, and for the first time, also a pair of startlingly dark blue eyes.


	8. Pain & Pleasure

**A/N: yeah, so, quicker than usual update here - I was supposed to be working on my other story when all of this popped in my head. Seems to be a recurring theme lol. Thanks for the reviews and alerts, they make my day :)**

Hermione couldn't help but smile.

After calling Loxley & Bergin's bluff, they capitulated and agreed to ME receiving 35% of their profits in exchange for their investment. Today they had arrived by Floo to sign the deal, and Hermione was watching as they did so in the upstairs board room.

Draco was quite pleased with the progress - only a week and a half on the job and Hermione had engineered a deal that would surely rake in more galleons than anything in the company's recent memory, plus give ME very good publicity for investing in the mix of muggle and wizarding technology.

When the papers were signed and the deal was done, the two men from L & B Flooed back to their headquarters and Draco approached Hermione in the board room.

"Thanks, Granger," he whispered into her ear.

"You're welcome, Malfoy," she grinned back.

"Perhaps you should consider making this a permanent career change," he suggested, shoving his hands in his pockets and taking a step back. "You being here has renewed interest in our company."

"Well," she said, "I do enjoy my job so far, but I still want to go back to the Ministry eventually."

"You could do a bit of both," he said. "Maybe stay on here as a consultant?"

"Maybe," she replied, a bit surprised.

Draco then looked back at his vice president and a few other colleagues who were also in the board room, and he said, "I think we should all celebrate tonight. We haven't had a deal this big in months. Care to join?"

"Oh - I don't know..."

"Just a few drinks after work, Granger," Draco smirked. "Unless you have other plans."

She didn't, of course. She thought about going to see her parents and using them as an excuse to decline, but Draco spoke before she could. "Fantastic. Eight o'clock then, I'll decide where and send you a memo."

She opened her mouth to protest but then he was gone, and she rolled her eyes before returning to her office.

Hermione went back and forth for awhile, unsure of what she wanted to do, but eventually she realized she was being stupid - why wouldn't she want to celebrate her first accomplishment at her new job? So what if she would be drinking with Malfoy again - they wouldn't be alone this time, and she would stop at two drinks at the most.

When five o'clock rolled around, Hermione Apparated home to shower, change her clothes, and grab dinner, which turned out to be Ginny's meatloaf.

"This is fantastic, Ginny," Hermione said as she scarfed it down while standing up, and Ginny smiled from her seat at the dining room table.

"Thanks. What are you dressed up for?"

Hermione looked down at the sleeveless, just-above-the-knee-hitting black and purple dress she'd thrown on and looked back up at Ginny. "Oh, everyone at work's going for drinks in a bit to celebrate the new account - do you think I'm overdressed?"

"No, I suppose not, but I haven't seen you in anything besides work clothes in awhile," Ginny shrugged. "Where are you guys going?"

Hermione grimaced a little. "Some nightclub. I've never been to one before, I don't think I'll like it."

Ginny's eyes widened a little. "You're going to a nightclub with Draco Malfoy. That might be the weirdest thing I've heard all year, and it's been an odd year."

Hermione sighed and set her plate down upon the counter. "I don't think I'll stay long. I don't think I'll even know what to do with myself in a nightclub."

Ginny smiled. "I'd go with you, but Harry won't be home until late."

"Oh, that's all right," Hermione said quickly, silently horrified at the thought of Ginny accompanying her and happening to see Malfoy up to his usual tricks. But surely he would be on his best behavior tonight, she reasoned, since quite a few of their colleagues would be there as well. She hoped so, at least.

In another half hour or so that was mainly spent scrutinizing her outfit and fretting over whether she should back out or not, she finally walked outside in her dress and heels, clutching a bag that contained her wand an a few other items, and Apparated to a Muggle corner in London, upon which sat an unassuming and small gray building.

She heard a small pop, and Draco appeared beside her. He looked delightfully more casual than usual, in a white button down shirt and black trousers. He didn't normally wear white, but she couldn't imagine why after seeing how the color complimented with his pale skin and hair. He looked at her and grinned. "You came."

"I said I would."

"I thought you would back out, to be honest." His eyes ran down her body, and she tensed. "Nice dress."

"Thanks. Shall we go in?"

"Sure," he said, and together they strolled into the club. It had just opened and it was mostly empty, save for a few bartenders, and Hermione followed Draco up a staircase and around a corner, then into a private room that was already occupied by a few of their colleagues, including the insufferable Phoenix Hart. The room boasted leather couches and a circular table surrounded by a booth that wrapped halfway around it, and on the table were several buckets of ice containing what looked to be very expensive bottles of champagne. It all seemed a bit much for celebrating one new investment, but Hermione wasn't about to question it if nobody else did.

"Phoenix," Draco sighed as he motioned for Hermione to enter before him. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Hyacinth invited me," Phoenix grinned, alluding to the dark blonde seated at the table, sipping golden liquid from a glass. "I confess myself a bit hurt that you didn't invite me, Draco."

Draco sat at the table and Hermione sat beside him, feeling distinctly uncomfortable under Hyacinth's usual icy glare. "Well," Draco said, "since you only work perhaps one full week a year, I saw fit to only invite those of us who actually know what an honest day's work entails."

Phoenix grinned and lifted his glass towards Draco before sipping it. Hermione looked away as soon as his dark blue eyes turned to her, but she found she wasn't comfortable looking anywhere else either. The room was full of those whom she didn't know well yet, including the vice president of the company (an older man who had a girl she didn't know perched on his lap on one of the couches), heads of different departments and one girl from the accounting division. The room was plenty large to contain them all and still have extra room, but Hermione still felt a slight sensation of being suffocated within the four walls. She was planning her escape when a glass of champagne slid under her nose.

She glanced at Draco, who had poured the drink for her, and clasped the glass in her right hand. Draco clinked his glass against hers and said in a quiet voice, "To you."

She gulped the champagne faster than she'd intended, but it was a bit of a relief. Alcohol in general did not take long to take effect with her, and after a few moments of listening to boring conversations around the table, she was on her second glass and feeling distinctly warm. Draco got up to speak to someone across the room, and as soon as he was gone, Phoenix slid into Draco's place beside Hermione.

"All right, Miss Granger?" he grinned.

"Spectacular," she replied. "Why do you ask?"

"You're a bit quiet," he said. "You don't seem to be having a good time."

She shrugged. "I'm more of a quiet night with a book kind of girl."

"So I've heard," he grinned. "I've also heard your divorce is moving along nicely."

She narrowed her eyes. _Moving along nicely_? "Good to see you're up to date on your gossip," she said flatly.

"Oh, it's not that. I merely sought to find out your current status for the sake of my own selfish intentions."

Another sip of champagne, and she felt even warmer now. "Lucky me," she said, heavy with sarcasm.

Phoenix laughed, and it got Draco's attention from across the room. His silver eyes darkened at the sight of Phoenix cozying up to Hermione. "I haven't met many ladies like you. I like that."

"I've met plenty like you," she said, emboldened by the alcohol in her veins. "Conceited and obnoxious. Thinking you're God's gift to witches. Actually, you and Draco are a bit alike that way."

"Oh, Merlin, I assure you - I am very different from dear Draco," Phoenix said haughtily. "I lack his troubled past, and I plan to keep my trousers on when and if I find a wife to settle down with."

Hermione poured herself her third glass of champagne, forgetting about her two drink rule. Oh well. "Interesting that you know about that little problem of his."

"He shagged my sister," Phoenix said. "Quite disappointing. Malfoy men have prided themselves on being faithful, loyal husbands for generations."

"I'm sure none of them were lying, either," Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Perhaps they were," Phoenix conceded. "Either way, Draco is a bit sloppy about his indiscretions. But enough about the prat - would you care to dance?"

Hermione glanced at Draco, who was still shooting daggers at them with his eyes, and later she would chalk up her acceptance of Phoenix's proposal to the champagne and a sudden urge to annoy Draco. Perhaps it was revenge for his constant disruption of her sleeping patterns, or just comeuppance for his general obnoxious behavior, but Hermione gamely took Phoenix's hand and followed him out of the room. He led her across a walkway and to a small dancefloor that hung suspended over the main floor - it was quite cool looking, actually - and Hermione gasped a little bit when he suddenly closed the distance between them and pressed his body against hers.

She had never danced this way or this closely to anybody, and she felt stupid at first, trying to follow Phoenix's lead and do what she assumed was known as "dirty dancing". She eventually found that if she stopped thinking and just responded to his grinding and dancing without worrying what she looked like, it became almost enjoyable.

Phoenix's intentions were obvious, and when he gripped her hips and brought her as close to him as he physically could, his knee slipped between her legs and this time, her gasp was anything but slight. She looked up into his striking eyes and thought for a moment about letting him do as he pleased, and when his lips grew closer to hers, she was going to go ahead and allow him to kiss her. But his lips never made it to her mouth. Instead, he suddenly jerked back and withdrew his knee, an odd look on his handsome face. He jerked again, and let go of Hermione entirely.

"What's wrong?" she asked, brows furrowed, but he only mumbled and walked off. It took her slightly impaired brain a bit longer than it would have otherwise to recognize the obvious evidence of a Confundus charm, but she figured it out as she followed the still-twitching Phoenix back to the private room.

Just as she rounded the corner, hands were on her wrists and she was pushed into the wall. She squeaked and looked up to find that it was Draco who had accosted her, predictably. "Where did you come from?" she demanded.

"What were you thinking, letting that prick slobber all over you like some kind of dog?" Draco snapped, ignoring her question.

"I can do whatever I want!" she retorted. "What's your problem?"

"I have a lot of problems, Granger, and you will too if you're daft enough to give that idiot the time of day," he growled.

"I think I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, Malfoy, and I especially don't need you casting Confundus charms for no reason! Let me go!"

He released her but didn't move. She narrowed her eyes and spat, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous."

"So what if I am?" he retorted.

"So you have no right to be jealous," she said as if it were so obvious it barely warranted saying. "I'm nothing to you."

Then she pushed his chest and freed herself from between him and the wall, stomping back into the room with every intent if passing through it and leaving. But then Hyacinth of all people saw fit to strike up a conversation with her, and others followed, rendering her trapped. After awhile she slumped on to a couch in defeat, drinking from a refilled glass and enduring the chats of her colleagues.

Phoenix eventually reentered the room, still looking confused, and Draco took to brooding at the table with a tumbler of amber liquid, watching everyone with a great look of disinterest.

Some celebration, Hermione thought bitterly.

But soon enough, she'd imbibed enough alcohol to reach her laughing phase of drunkenness, and her giggles filled the room. This seemed to put Draco in an even worse mood, as he glowered worse than ever, and Hermione found this to be positively hilarious. He looked so ridiculous, sulking like a child who'd been told no to something he'd wanted, and if he hadn't been her boss, she might have considered physically slapping the stupid look from his face.

Instead, she decided to ignore him. Surprisingly, Hyacinth was utterly pleasant when she was drunk, and Hermione laughed heartily with her at any and everything until she realized with a start that more than half the room had left. Only moments after this realization, Hyacinth announced she was leaving as well, and dragged Phoenix with her as she muttered about finding somewhere to Floo home from in this area. Hermione watched the last person other than Draco leave, and with the closing of the door, they were alone.

Draco appeared to have been waiting for this moment. He immediately got up from his table and sat beside Hermione on the couch, tumbler in hand, nearly staring hole into her skin.

She was too drunk to care. "I'll be going now," she announced, moving to get up but being thwarted by Draco's hand enclosing around her own and pulling her back down.

"You can't Apparate like this and there's no Floo Network for miles."

She stared at him blankly. "So how am I supposed to get home?"

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you drank an entire bottle of champagne."

This wasn't good - it was like that first night with Draco all over again. "Well, what about you? You're not exactly sober either."

He shrugged and turned his eyes to hers. "Maybe I'm right where I want to be."

This time, her breath hitched in her throat at the look in his eyes, and she knew what was going to happen before it occurred. He brought his lips down roughly on hers, tossing his drink aside and bringing his hands to hold either side of her face. She didn't see him take out his wand and cast silencing, locking and darkening spells (the latter for the glass windows of the room) nonverbally, and she didn't fight him this time either. The warmth in her body finally found somewhere to go, something to do, and she ignored the voice in her head urging her to hex Draco and take a Muggle cab home. All of the tension she'd been pretending didn't exist came to a head and found relief in their lips bruising against one another, as painful as it was pleasurable, and Hermione tasted blood after Draco bit down on her bottom lip.

Draco yanked a fistful of her hair and her head hit the arm of the couch as her body stretched out over the leather cushions, and he hovered over her as he nipped harder than usual at her neck. Hermione tried to breathe but couldn't, gasping when his lips found her ear and his murmured in a husky voice, "Don't ever do something like that in front of me again. Do you understand?"

She nodded, vaguely aware of his hands pushing up the hem of her dress. His lips found hers again and he nearly suffocated her with the force of his kisses, but she didn't mind, somehow enjoying the rough way he was handling her. Her dress moved up over her hips and quickly over her breasts after that, and in the next moment it was on the floor. Draco yanked off his shirt before she could, and then he disposed of her bra, and she reveled in the glorious feel of his skin in hers when he pressed his chest down over hers.

His tongue trailed up the side of her neck as his hand cupped one of her breasts and squeezed it a little too hard, but the pain seemed to only increase her arousal once more. She fisted her hands in his hair and tried to pull it as hard as he'd pulled hers but all it earned her was a growl and his hands grasping her wrists and pinning them above her head while his lips continued to brutally assault her own.

He moved her wrists into one of his hands and used his newly free one to find her most aching, needy place between her legs, and he was rewarded with a shaky moan into his mouth. He wrenched his mouth away from hers and watched her, savoring the way her mouth hung open and her back arched into his touch, and how her brown eyes glazed more with each wave of pleasure wrought by his fingers. He wanted to devour her, to eat her alive, and more than anything else, to possess her. Seeing Phoenix grinding against her had done something strange in him, and now he felt as if he must remind her of the power he held over her, and of his ability to make her body sing for him.

He could only stand to not taste her for so long, and soon his lips found a very erect nipple, and as he twirled his tongue around it her body reacted even more wildly, and he pressed his palm into her to try to hold her still while his other hand reluctantly released her wrists. Her hands quickly found his hair again and gripped it desperately while his mouth continued its work upon her breasts, and when a low sound came from his throat and the vibration reached her nipple, she gave a great twitch and cried out as she became engulfed in pleasure.

Draco looked up to watch her face as she came undone, and she didn't disappoint. She was slumped happily against the cushions when he withdrew his hand, and used her momentary daze to remove their last bits of clothing. Afterwards he gently pulled her to a sitting position, guiding her into his lap and wrapping her legs around his middle. She looked at him through suddenly heavy lidded eyes, her hands resting on her shoulders as she said, "You're a prat."

He smirked. "You're beautiful."

She felt almost ashamed of the blush that crept up her cheeks. "I should leave you here like this, and let you take care of yourself."

"After I so graciously let you come first?"

She shifted suddenly and brought herself down upon him, taking his length into her as he hissed in surprise and relief. "Don't pretend to be anything more than what you are."

"And what is that?" he asked hoarsely, gripping her hips as she began to ride him slowly.

"An arrogant" - she rose up - "conceited" - she brought herself back down - "cheating" - she kissed him - "manipulative" - she ran her tongue along his bottom lip - "sexy" - she sighed into his mouth - "infuriating man."

It was completely the alcohol's fault that she'd used the second to last adjective, and she knew she would regret it in the morning, but right now, all she wanted to do was enjoy her mistake and enjoy him.

One of his hands moved to her bottom and gripped it tightly, while the other found her left breast and kneaded it as she picked up her pace a bit, kissing along his neck as her second release built up languidly inside of her. He really did feel amazing inside of her, like a perfect fit, reaching her most sensitive place and hitting it over and over. For his part, she found a place at the base of his neck that when she sucked at, his breath quickened further and his gripped tightened. She lavished her lips and tongue upon this place, trying to retain control as he thrusted up into her harder and harder, until his hands suddenly guided her face back to his. They kissed hard and frantically, until she felt him shudder and shake from within her, and with a great hissing groan, Draco was done for.

He slumped against her with his face buried in her neck, and she stroked his hair, a little disappointed by her own lack of release. She hadn't been far from it when he'd come undone, but she tried to be happy with the one she'd already had.

But then Draco surprised her, and with a lusty but satisfied expression, dropped to his back. He slid out of her at the same time, and motioned for her to slide up him with his finger. She did so, a little bit, until he grabbed her hips and urged her further upward. She gave him a puzzled look, and he rolled his eyes. "My face, Granger."

Her eyes widened, but she allowed him to continue to guide her until she was perched over his face, in the most exposed position she could imagine finding herself in. But any self-conscious thoughts disappeared as soon as his lips kissed the tops of her inner thighs, just for a moment before tongue left his mouth and went to work on her.

She gripped the back of the couch and closed her eyes as he picked up where he'd left off, bathing her swollen nub in warmth and moisture and gentle pressure, earning new cries from her open mouth, and achieving his goal within what couldn't have been more than a moment.

She writhed against his face without a care, riding an orgasm twice as powerful as her last one, shuddering as his hands tried to keep her from collapsing, and crying out without a second thought. When it was over, she allowed Draco to move her back down his body, and he sat up slowly.

She breathed heavily as he held her in his arms, once again finding herself in his lap, and holding on to him loosely but securely. She rested her head upon his shoulder, the swirl of her sated daze and champagne-impaired thoughts staving off the unavoidably impending guilt for now.

Eventually Draco gently eased her back and looked into her eyes, which moved down to the base of his neck as her fingers reached out to touch his skin there, where her suckling had left a very noticeable mark. "You'll have to cover that up," she breathed.

He ran a finger softly across her bottom lip. "And I'll need to heal this for you. I got a little carried away."

"Can't say I mind much," she admitted. "I assume you charmed the room before - things started."

"Of course," he nodded slightly, gently running his finger along her jaw.

She glanced down at his hand and saw that his wedding ring was on, which was a bit unusual - he only wore it sometimes, and never in their previous encounters. It was enough to sober her up a bit, and with a sigh, she unwound her legs from around him and moved from his lap, gathering her clothes from the floor at the foot of couch.

Hermione felt a little self-conscious as she dressed, since Draco was watching her intently with no apparent intention of getting dressing himself. Once her dress was back on, she glanced at him and threw his clothes to him.

"This is the last time this will happen," she said as he buttoned up his shirt. He only smirked in response. "I'm serious."

"Whatever you say," Draco shrugged. "You have only yourself to blame, however."

"And how do you figure that?" she demanded. "I'm drunk, and you took advantage of me!"

"Right," he scoffed. "Anyway, I didn't plan on any of this until I saw Phoenix violating you."

"It's not my fault that you have a weird, misplaced jealousy," Hermione retorted, standing up and swaying on her feet.

He got up as well and advanced upon her. "It most certainly is your fault. And don't forget your promise not to parade around with other men in front of me, because if you do, this will happen every time until you realize I have no intention of letting another man touch you."

She opened her mouth and stared at him in outrage. "I'm not your property! I'm your employee, and we don't have a relationship! You don't have any claim over me," she insisted in half a yell.

"Keep telling yourself that," Draco murmured, taking her chin between his fingers. "Something keeps you coming back to me - what do you suppose it is?"

"I don't keep coming back to you," she said, batting his hand away. "You keep taking advantage of me."

"You kissed _me_ in my office a few weeks ago," he reminded her, "and you sat on _my_ lap and shagged _me_ a few minutes ago. Whatever this is, it's hardly one sided."

"It doesn't matter," she said, "because it's never happening again."

With that, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the room. She knew Draco was following her, and he wasn't far behind, but she kept her head up and tried not to trip over her own unsteady feet as they exited the nightclub and stepped out into the brisk nighttime air.

She was about to turn on the spot and Apparate when Draco grabbed her hand and stopped her. "Are you mad?"

She yanked her hand away. "I feel quite sober right now, Malfoy - I can Apparate just fine."

"You can't be this stupid," he said, grabbing for her hand again. "We can walk to work and use the Floo there -"

"Get off me!" she exclaimed, slapping away his hand and turning on the spot. He grabbed hold of her just as she Apparated, and together they hurtled through the tight, squeezing darkness until they both appeared outside Harry and Ginny's house.

But as soon as Hermione's feet hit the earth, the hand that had clasped on to hers suddenly let go and she heard a gasp and the distinct thud of a body hitting the earth. She looked down at her feet and then spun around, and her eyes widened at the sight of Draco lying on his back in the grass, clutching his side and still struggling for breath. She hurriedly lit her wand and sank to her knees at his side, where her heart dropped at the sight of blood oozing from his left side, staining his crisp white shirt and dripping on to the sticks and shoots of grass underneath him.

"Oh my God - I'm so sorry, Draco! I'm sorry!" she stammered, trying to move his hands so she could lift up his shirt and see how bad he was splinched. When she succeeded, she saw a nearly straight line of a gash that extended from his armpit to his waist, and she was about to burst into tears when she heard a door open and two sets of footsteps rushing out into the grass towards them.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ginny called nearly in unison, after which Harry said, "Are you alright?"

She looked back at them and shook her head. "No - no, I'm fine, but Dra- Malfoy's been splinched!"

Harry quickly descended upon them and looked at the wound briefly before pulling Draco up to a sitting position - which Draco protested loudly - and eventually managed to get him to his feet, which he moaned even more about, and began hurriedly walking him inside the house. Hermione stood and looked at Ginny, who was holding a bewildered, half-asleep looking James, and Ginny said, "What happened? That looks like a nasty splinch."

"We - we were drinking tonight, and I was trying to Apparate home, and he tried to grab my hand to stop me, but -"

"You tried to Apparate drunk?" Ginny asked in disbelief.

Hermione gave a small wail. "I - I thought I would be fine, but I wasn't expecting him to grab me when he did, and - oh, I'm an idiot!"

"He'll be fine, Hermione, we have dittany and Harry knows how to fix splinches," Ginny said as Hermione began to cry, "but I don't understand - why would you even try to Apparate in that kind of state?"

Hermione wiped her eyes and couldn't find an answer. The truth was, it was just another thing she'd done recently that she had no explanation for. She sniffed and hurried towards the house, Ginny following close behind her, her eyes betraying her confusion and concern for her friend.


	9. Saint Potter Has My Eternal Gratitude

**A/N:** **thank you everyone who reviewed/alerted/favorited! I'm starting to get excited about this story again. Big things happening in the next chapter after this :)**

Two things Hermione saw when she stepped into the Potters' home: Draco lying on the couch in the sitting room with his shirt half off, protesting loudly as Harry tried to apply dittany to his splinch wound, and to Hermione's great shock and dismay, Ron walking into the room from the kitchen with an understandably bewildered look on his face.

Then everyone spoke at once.

"I said get off me, Potter, I can do it myself -"

"Shut up, you prat, you're going to make it worse! Lie still!"

"Ron, I told you to leave!"

"Ron?"

The last word belonged to Hermione's feeble voice, and somehow it reached Draco's ears. He jerked his head towards where she was staring and rolled his eyes at the sight of her soon-to-be-ex. "Fantastic," he grunted, then half-shrieked in pain when Harry took the opportunity to apply the dittany and use a healing spell at the same time.

"What the bloody hell happened? And why is _he_ here?" Ron asked, eyes darting from the couch to his sister and finally to Hermione.

Hermione felt her face redden and turned her eyes back to Draco, who was clutching his side again and still hissing in pain. Nobody said anything.

"Hello?"

"How is it any of your business, Weasel?" Draco snapped.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Ginny said, "Hermione went out with her new colleagues tonight to celebrate a new account and apparently decided -" she gave Hermione a stern look - "to try to Apparate drunk."

"And nearly splinched me to death in the process," Draco added unhelpfully.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione squeaked. "I don't know what I was thinking - you know I didn't mean for this to happen!"

Ron squinted at Hermione after she spoke. "What happened to your lip?"

"My -" Hermione raised a finger to her mouth and remembered that only about forty five minutes ago, Draco had bitten her lip so hard that she'd bled. "Oh, er, I just - bit my lip."

Now Ginny's eyes began scrutinizing her appearance, and her face began burning even hotter. "Hermione, blood's smeared all over your lip - you look like you got punched," Ginny said gently. Hermione caught Harry's eye from the corner of her own and knew why he didn't look as confused as the others.

"Someone hit you?" Ron asked, turning his eyes to Draco. He added wildly, "Was it you?"

Draco tried to sit up but was forced back down due to instant searing pain at his wound. "Me? Why in Merlin's name would I hit her?"

"You tell me!" Ron yelled. "I'm still wondering why you gave her a job! Must be some kind of ulterior motive!"

"Ron - be reasonable!" Hermione said. "Nobody hit me! I've been drinking, I probably bit my lip and didn't realize it."

She looked at Harry once more, and he gave her a subtle look and scratched his neck. Hermione's eyes widened just barely as she realized her neck must be covered in very visiblel bites. She tried to discreetly move her hair over her shoulders to help cover the marks, not realizing Ginny had noticed the whole silent exchange and was now staring at her through narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"Ron, mate, I think it's time to go," Harry said to Ron, who was now staring at Draco as if he were something extremely grotesque to look at.

"I'll go when he goes," Ron said, gesturing to the couch. "I don't trust him."

"What do you think I'm going to do? _Crucio_ the Potters after I get done smacking Granger around some more?" Draco said, dripping in sarcasm.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. James let out a wail, and Ginny began bouncing slightly to soothe him while Ron continued to glower at Draco. "Ron, it's fine. Go," Harry said.

Ron looked highly offended but began to walk to the fireplace on the other side of the room anyway, stopping in front of Hermione on the way. "Why would you go out drinking with him? I know you took the job because you were desperate, but -"

"Desperate? I was not desperate!" she snapped. "I've been offered about twenty different jobs at the Ministry in the last two weeks!"

"Well then that's even stranger then!" Ron said. "Why would you willingly work for a Death Eater?"

Everyone in the room apart from Ron immediately looked at Draco, whose expression clearly implied he was used to hearing such things about himself. He merely looked bored, and slightly irritated. Satisfied that Draco wasn't going to start dueling Ron in the middle of the sitting room, Hermione turned back to her ex and said, "I don't answer to you, and my choices don't concern you anymore either."

"I'm just saying -"

"I don't care!" Hermione snapped. "Just go!"

Ron's face reddened and he finally stomped off to the fireplace, disappearing within the green flames in moments, though not before shooting everyone in the room scathing looks.

"Thank Merlin," Draco said once Ron was gone, forcing his body to obey his wishes to sit up. "I'll be on my way as well."

"No, you won't," Harry said, pushing Draco back down with a hand. "If you try to travel by any kind of magical means besides a broom, you'll risk re-opening the wound."

"Fine, so lend me a broom."

"Nice try, but not when you've been drinking. You can fly home in the morning," Harry said.

"You've got to be kidding me," Draco groaned, dropping his head on the arm of the couch. "This is ridiculous, I can bloody well fly perfectly fine -"

" - But you're not, so shut it and sit still before I have to hold you down and heal you again," Harry said.

Ginny still looked extremely puzzled and slightly distressed about something. "Would you like me to owl your wife for you, Malfoy? So she's not worried why you haven't come home?"

"What? Oh, right. Yeah, thanks," Draco muttered, and Ginny's expression grew darker.

James wailed again, and this time he didn't stop. Ginny sighed and strode out of the room with the baby, leaving Harry at liberty to finally give Hermione the scolding look he'd been holding back since she first Apparated there.

"For God's sake, Hermione," Harry hissed as he quickly walked to her and pulled out his wand. He waved it over her lip and healed it, then went to work covering up the marks on her neck. "What were you thinking? Don't you remember that time Neville Apparated drunk and had to get both of his arms reattached at St. Mungos? And you," he said, wheeling around to glare at Draco, "what have you been doing to her? She looks like she got in a fight with a Blast-Ended Skrewt!"

"Harry," Hermione whispered, "I know, I was extremely stupid tonight, and I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," Harry said. "But if you're going to do whatever it is you're doing with him -" he jerked his head behind him at Draco - "try not to come home with a black eye next time."

"What are you trying to say?" Draco hissed just above a whisper. "I've got marks of my own, you know, and I lost a chunk of hair thanks to her-"

Harry held up a hand. "Malfoy, believe me when I say I absolutely _do not_ want to know. I'm just making a suggestion. Also, I might suggest you both realize that you're still married, and act like it."

Then Harry moved a bit closer to Hermione and whispered so only she could hear, "I know you said this isn't anything serious and that it was a mistake you wouldn't make again, and usually I'd say it's none of my business who you see, but this isn't the Hermione I know."

"I know," she whispered back, feeling positively rotten and stupid. "I'm never going to drink again."

"Just don't drink with him again," Harry muttered.

"Keep whispering, by all means - it's not rude at all!" Draco suddenly exclaimed.

Harry turned and looked down at Draco. "You're lucky that I'm nice enough to heal you and let you stay here while you recover after you disregarded our last conversation."

"Oh yes, Saint Potter has my eternal gratitude," Draco said with a roll of his eyes. "And by the way, Granger's a big girl who can make her own decisions."

"Sure, especially considering one of her decisions got you splinched," Harry retorted. "I meant what I said before in your office, Malfoy."

"And I meant what I said when I told you that you could take your interfering tripe and shove it up your -"

"Enough!" Hermione exclaimed, and interestingly, both men heeded her words and shut up.

After an awkward moment of silence, Harry muttered, "I'm going to go check on James." He then shuffled out of the room, leaving Hermione and Draco alone.

Feeling exceedingly sober by now, Hermione crossed her arms and reluctantly brought her eyes to Draco's. "I'm sorry."

"I know, you've said that three times now," Draco snapped, frowning and holding his side.

"Why did you grab me?"

Draco stared at her like she was utterly daft. "I was trying to keep you from Apparating and splinching yourself, genius. Ironic, I know."

Hermione frowned. "How's the pain?"

"Feels like I got my side split open, which I did. And dittany stings like you wouldn't believe..."

"I'll go get you a pain potion," she said, and then hurried off to her bathroom to rummage in the medicine cabinet for the potion. Her hands were shaking as she pushed aside the small glass vials looking for the right one, and when she finally grabbed it, she closed the cabinet and looked at her reflection in the mirror.

She thought she looked as dreadful as she felt, though her bottom lip wasn't swollen or stained with her own blood anymore. She examined her neck and found that Harry did an impressive job of covering up the evidence of Draco's teeth, but the true evidence was written all over her face and imprinted on her mind. This had to end - this had to be it.

She returned to the sitting room and quickly deposited the potion into Draco's hand, avoiding eye contact as best she could. He quickly swallowed the clear fluid and wordlessly handed the empty vial back to Hermione, who was still looking anywhere but at him.

"What's wrong with you?" he snapped as his pain eased instantly. She looked up at him but didn't reply. "Let me guess - you're drowning in overwhelming guilt and shame, and I'm about to be treated to your declarations that 'it's over' for the second time tonight."

"Harry's right," Hermione said quietly.

"Of course Potter's right, when is he ever wrong?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Would you be serious for one bloody minute?"

"Would you stop being in denial for one bloody minute?" Draco retorted.

"Denial of what?" she furrowed her brows.

He sat up straighter on the couch and looked so deeply into her eyes that she nearly took a step back. "That you don't want to end this. That you deserve to feel good every once in awhile. And that you want it be me who makes it happen."

She didn't want to admit any of those things, but there was no point disputing them either. "None of that matters. We're both married, and -"

"You'll be divorced by month's end," Draco interrupted. "And my marriage has been over for longer than I care to admit."

"It doesn't matter - you still go home to her every night! And you're still trying to have children with her, aren't you?"

Draco chose to remain silent this time. "And even if you did leave her tomorrow, what would happen? Would you want a relationship with me? I think we both know that you don't," she said, trying hard to keep her voice down so nobody else in the house heard her. "And I want someone who really wants me, and wants a family - I deserve that. I deserve better than this."

"I never said you didn't," Draco replied calmly.

She was quiet for a moment, and averted her eyes to the wall to her left before she spoke again. "I should resign. This won't work."

"Excuse me," Draco said with slightly wide eyes. "but no. I won't accept any resignation you try to turn in."

Now her eyes widened. "You won't accept -"

"No, I won't. You've just begun talks with three other companies and if it weren't for you, they wouldn't speak to us and we wouldn't know how to speak to them."

"I told you from the outset, this was a temporary position for me," Hermione said, crossing her arms.

"I realize that. But you haven't even worked a full two weeks yet," he pointed out.

She sighed loudly and tightened her crossed arms. "I just - you have to leave me alone. I can't work with you every day when you're lying in wait, just waiting to get me in bed again."

"Actually, we've only used a bed once -"

"It doesn't matter!" she half-shrieked before realizing how loudly she'd spoken and dropping her voice to just above a whisper. "It doesn't matter. It has to end."

"Fine," he snapped, suddenly an edge to his voice. "Fine, if that's what you want."

"It is," she said quietly.

"I don't believe you, but I'll agree all the same. I'll treat you like I do any other employee. Will that make you happy?"

Of course it wouldn't. But it was the right thing to do. "Yes."

"Fine," he shrugged. "I'll see you at the office tomorrow."

With that, he sunk down into the couch and turned his back to her. She ignored the odd twist in her gut and walked away towards the safety of her room, her hands shaking even worse now.

For his part, Draco didn't know what was wrong with him. He felt anger coursing through his veins that had nothing to do with the splinch he'd suffered and everything to do with the witch who'd caused it. He'd known for some time that she'd wormed her way under his skin, but he couldn't understand why the idea of not touching her again bothered him so. It wasn't like there was any shortage of women to replace her - perhaps none of the same quality and intelligence, but so what? None of that really matters when you're naked, he reasoned.

But he didn't want to replace her. He didn't want to see her every day at work and stare at her legs in those blasted skirts she was so fond of and not be able to have his way with her if he so chose. Sure, this wasn't the first time she'd made him promise to not make any advances towards her, but he hadn't taken that first promise seriously at all. This time felt different, and he really shouldn't care, but he did.

He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, but his annoying thoughts made it nearly impossible. As fast as his mind was racing and producing more thoughts a minute than he thought was possible, Astoria never entered those thoughts once.

Meanwhile, Hermione had been half-sprinting down the hallway to her bedroom when Harry and Ginny's door flew open and a flash of long red hair flew out in front of her. Hermione stopped in her tracks and looked up into the startlingly angry face of Ginny as she said, "What's going on between you and Malfoy?"

"I - what?"

"You heard me," Ginny said. "Something's going on and Harry won't tell me."

"Ginny, please, I really don't -"

"Just tell me, Hermione. I'm not stupid, I can put two and two together. You're shagging him, aren't you?"

Though she didn't think she could feel worse, Hermione now did. Her silence gave Ginny her answer.

"Hermione!" Ginny half-yelled. "What's wrong with you? How long has this been going on?"

"Not long," Hermione croaked out. "It just sort of happened, and -"

"Right," Ginny said angrily. "So I've been defending you to my brother and taking your side when you've been doing the exact same thing as what he's doing with Hannah."

"No!" Hermione said, fighting tears now. "No, I'm not in a relationship with him, and it only happened after Ron filed for divorce -"

Ginny held up a hand, looking disgusted. "I don't want to hear it. I can't believe you've been lying to me this entire time, after me - and my entire family - have taken your side over Ron's."

Hermione felt a tear slide down her cheek as Harry appeared suddenly, taking Ginny by her shoulders and whispering, "Come on, Ginny. That's enough."

But Ginny whipped her head and hair around to glare at her husband. "Don't you dare take her side!"

"You're going to wake up James -"

"And you've known the whole time, haven't you?" Ginny said accusingly.

"No, I haven't, but -"

Ginny turned back to Hermione. "I can't believe you, Hermione. Is that why Malfoy gave you the job?"

Hermione didn't bother to defend herself, and was surprised when Harry did.

"Ginny, come on, now you're just trying to be as mean as you can be -"

"Like hell," Ginny spat, turning back to Harry. "I thought we were all better friends than this. After all this time, I thought my best friend would be honest with me, but I suppose I was wrong! Did you know Ron told me that she had a one night stand the night he filed for divorce, and I didn't believe him? Yeah! Well, he was telling the truth, wasn't he?"

With that, Ginny whipped herself around again and stomped inside her bedroom, slamming the door shut on both Harry and Hermione. Hermione wasted no time dissolving into tears, and when Harry put a reassuring arm around her, she buried her face into his shoulder and sobbed into it.

"She's just angry, give her some time," Harry said quietly. "You know how Weasley tempers are."

"But it's true! Everything she said is true! I'm a horrible person and a horrible friend," Hermione wailed, though her voice was muffled by Harry's shirt.

"You're not - you're just human," Harry said. "Human with a pretty bad taste in blokes."

She gave a half-laugh, half-sob, and pulled away from Harry's newly soaked shirt. "I'm sorry, Harry. She shouldn't be angry at you, she should only be angry at me."

He shrugged. "Like I said, she'll come around."

"I hope so," Hermione sniffed.

"You should get some sleep," Harry said gently. "You look awful."

She half-laughed again. "Thanks."

He gave her another brief hug, and afterwards she said, "Thank you, Harry. For everything."

He nodded. "I _am_ a pretty good friend, aren't I."

Hermione chuckled. "The best I've ever had."


	10. What Would Daphne and Pansy Do?

**A/N: thank you to every fabulous person who reviewed/alerted/faved :D nice long chapter here today :)**

Apparently, Draco had managed to injure his right leg as well as slice open his side last night, because when he woke up before anyone else in the Potter house and headed for their fireplace despite Harry's warning to travel only by broom, he limped the whole way. He figured it was probably because once he splinched and hit the ground he'd landed badly on the leg, but no matter. He was not a stranger to dealing with physical pain.

He tossed the Potters' Floo powder into the fireplace and happily walked into the green flames, appearing moments later on the second floor of Malfoy Enterprises. He then stepped back inside the fireplace and called out for Malfoy Manor, having to go the long way like this because the Potters' Floo was definitely not connected to the one at his mansion, and in moments he was brushing the ash off of his blood-stained clothes in his drawing room, where, predictably enough, Astoria and Narcissa were waiting for him.

"Bloody hell, it 6 AM," Draco muttered as their wide eyes took in his bloodied and disheveled appearance. "Don't you people sleep?"

"Not when you don't come home and I get an owl from Ginny Potter telling me you've been injured and can't travel home until morning!" Astoria said slightly shrilly. "What happened to you?"

"I injured myself and couldn't travel home until morning," Draco drawled maddeningly, bypassing the two women in favor of the kitchen. Astoria threw her hands up in the air in frustration while Narcissa followed him.

"Draco," Narcissa said as Draco fought off a few elves so that he could brew his own coffee, "this isn't amusing. You're quickly becoming out of control."

"Don't be so melodramatic," Draco scoffed. "It was a simple accident, really. One of my employees tried to Apparate drunk, I tried to stop her, and ended up Apparating with her and got splinched. Could have happened to anyone."

"Draco," his mother said in a whisper, "this isn't the first incident with you stumbling home in the wee hours of the morning reeking of alcohol."

"No, but it is the first time I've stumbled home covered in blood," he shrugged carelessly.

Narcissa crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "I'm glad you find all of this to be so humorous."

"I don't," he said. "But I'm also not going to have a meltdown over it."

"This 'employee' of yours -since you spent the night at the Potters', I'm going to assume it was Hermione Weasley."

"Granger," he mindlessly corrected.

"Astoria's not daft, you know," Narcissa said, dropping her voice down even lower.

"When did I ever say she was?"

Narcissa sighed. "She know as well as I do that you've not been faithful. You don't even try to hide it."

Draco shrugged. "I know that she knows. She told me to hide it better and that to her, my infidelity's a fact of life. So no harm done."

Completely unexpectedly, Narcissa's open hand whacked the side of Draco's face, and he staggered back in surprise. "What the - what was _that_ for?"

"Even your father remained faithful to me our entire relationship," Narcissa hissed angrily. "And you are a much better man than he ever was. You took vows, Draco. I've raised you better than this."

"Yeah, I took vows with a woman you picked for me when I was six and she was four," Draco muttered, rubbing his stinging left cheek. Lovely. As if enough of his body wasn't hurting already.

"You were both in love when you married!"

Draco grimaced a little. "I thought I was! But what did I know? I was just happy to be alive, I'd have married a hippogriff if you'd wanted."

Narcissa rolled her eyes just barely. "If you don't wish to be married any longer, there's a thing called divorce."

"Sure, but I need to produce an heir, don't I? And who else wants to marry and bear the child of an ex-Death Eater?"

"So you intend to string her along until she gives you your heir, and then throw her in the trash?" Narcissa asked, aghast.

"I don't really know what I intend," he muttered, pouring freshly brewed coffee into a mug. He drank a large scalding gulp of it and quickly added a burnt tongue to his list of ailments.

"You know that she most likely can't even become pregnant, don't you?" Narcissa said unexpectedly.

Draco turned his eyes to his mother slowly. "Your point?"

"My point is, if this is your reasoning for staying with her, then you may as well start divorce proceedings now before you hurt her even more than you already have. It shouldn't take any woman this long to fall pregnant."

"Nice. Good to know you aren't put off by the idea of me divorcing her because of a health issue she has no control over."

"That's not what I said," Narcissa said sharply. "But I did suggest you get her checked out by a healer before you married her -"

"And she refused, understandably so," Draco said before finishing the rest of his coffee in one more large gulp. "I'm getting a headache. I'm going to go take a shower."

Draco then limped past Narcissa out of the kitchens, to their elves' relief, and Narcissa closed her eyes and shook her head. Neither of them realized that Astoria had been outside the kitchens the whole time, listening intently to their conversation and holding her hand tightly over her mouth so that they wouldn't hear her crying. She'd ran away the second Draco announced that he was taking a shower and was now hiding in a bathroom down the corridor, knowing that the end of her marriage was finally here.

But once she moved past the initial hurt and disappointment of what her life had become, she remembered growing up with her older sister Daphne and her best friend Pansy Parkinson, learning from them a great deal how to handle men and how to assert one's self, and she realized shed become far too passive and allowing for Draco's sake. In fact, she'd completely changed who she was for him. She was not okay with his philandering, and she was not okay with how he treated her every day.  
But, she'd tried to be okay with it for several years now, and the situation she was in now was as much her fault as it was her husband's, in her judgement. Yes, she had rolled over and let him turn their marriage into a circus, but that part of her life was over now.

Now, the only question was - what would Daphne and Pansy do?

Meanwhile, unaware of his wife's nefarious plotting, Draco was standing in the ridiculously oversized shower adjacent to his bedroom, watching as pink water tainted by his dried blood swirled around the drain and slowly disappeared, just like his sanity. Yeah, he was insane.

He had a wife who was stunningly beautiful - that was indisputable - and who loved him enough to look the other way while he cheated on her, repeatedly and nearly openly. Come to think of it, he mused, that might be more indicative of her own personal brand of insanity rather than love on her part, but the point remained - she was everything he'd ever thought he would want in a wife. And he was throwing her away.

He'd dragged it on too long, anyway. They both knew after their first year of marriage that they were completely incompatible. She was image-obsessed, society-obsessed, whereas he was business-minded, and didn't care how people perceived him. Some people, if not most, would always perceive him badly, due to his Dark Mark and history of terrible behavior. Even if they believed that his changes of heart were sincere, they still wouldn't like him, so why care?

Even Granger had assumed that he still despised her for her blood, after their first encounter weeks ago, and it had taken quite some convincing for her to believe him.

Stepping under the water once more to rinse out the outrageously overpriced shampoo from his overly pampered blonde locks, he tried not to think about Granger, but it was too late. His mind drifted back to the night prior, before the excruciating side-splitting incident, and felt himself harden automatically at the memory of how she'd looked stretched out underneath him on that couch, bare and eager for his touch, intoxicatingly beautiful and so easy to pull apart from her seams.

Well, he didn't have to be at the office for another hour. Thanks to his bushy haired head of Muggle Research and the vivid memories they'd created yesterday, his shower was going to take a bit longer now.

* * *

Hermione managed a paltry three hours of sleep before she woke up with a splitting but unsurprising headache. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand and sighed, getting up and swallowing a hangover potion before showering and dressing robotically. She didn't want to think about last night, but it was all she could think about, naturally.

Her mistakes seemed even stupider in the light of day. And Ginny's words cut even deeper when she recalled them. But everything the younger witch had said had been true - she had defended and stood up for Hermione unfailingly since Ron had served her papers, and now she looked like a fool for doing so. Hermione wondered how long it would take for Ginny to tell Ron that it has been Malfoy she's slept with, and her stomach twisted with dread. It was just as well - she planned on skipping breakfast anyway, not wanting to face Ginny's withering Molly-ish glare.

So she quietly exited her bedroom and crept to the sitting room, where she Flooed directly to Malfoy Enterprises an hour early. From one lion's den to another.

* * *

Thankfully, Hermione managed to grab a small breakfast from a elf before diving into a large pile of work in her office, which was exactly what she'd been hoping for. Losing herself in work was an immense relief, allowing her to briefly forget about her problems and be productive, even if it was being productive for the man who had helped cause her problems.

After working through lunch a memo came floating in her office and she grabbed it mindlessly, though her heart thumped when she recognized Draco's scrawl on the parchment, asking her to come to his office.

She cursed under her breath the entire way to his office, and when she walked inside she immediately crossed her arms and stared at him expectantly, staying a safe distance away from his desk. "You wanted to see me?"

He looked up from his desk and nodded. "Yes, I did. I need you to do a favor for me."

"And what's that?" she asked, expecting taunting or worse, but she saw no evidence on his face that he was thinking about anything other than business. Odd. Maybe he planned on actually keeping his latest promise.

"I have a file at my home that I want you to grab for me," he said, standing up and limping towards her. He held out his wand to her. "You'll need this to get past the wards."

"A file?" she repeated, looking down at the wand in his hands. "But - why are you limping?"

"I fell on my leg last night," he shrugged. "Not a big deal, but I'd rather keep to my office today, which is why I'm asking you to retrieve the file."

"Oh - but I'm a bit busy at the moment, and -"

"I'm asking you, as my _employee_, to do me a favor," he said pointedly.

She pursed her lips as she realized what he was doing. This was not a job for a department head, that was for sure, but he was doing this because she told him the night prior that she wanted him to treat her like any other employee. She hadn't expected to be punished with gratuitous errands in exchange for this, however, and she had no interest in returning to the house in which she'd been tortured six years ago.

"Problem?" he asked, and something in his tone brought out her considerable inner stubbornness.

"No," she said, "_sir_."

"Good. You can use this fireplace," he said, gesturing to the one that sat on the left wall of his office. "The file is in my study down the main corridor on the first floor. It'll be the fifth door on the left, and the file is labeled 'Marx and Lane'. It should be on my desk."

He again reached out his wand, and this time she took it. "Why do I need this?"

"If you tried to Floo there without it, it would just spit you back in here," he explained, turning and plopping back down in his chair.

He then started rifling though some parchment on his desk, ignoring her, and she walked to the fireplace, intent on getting this over with. She tossed in the powder and, for the first time in her life, called out "Malfoy Manor" before stepping inside.

After a moment of dizzying spinning, she was ejected into a very large and ornate dining room. Grateful that she hadn't popped out into the drawing room she'd been tortured by Bellatrix in, she squared her shoulders and began walking down the corridor that led out of the dining room, highly annoyed that she was doing this when she had owls to send and things to do in her own office rather than here.

She ignored the portraits on the walls that watched her with suspicious eyes and counted the doors on the left side of the hallway until she reached the fifth one, and just as she reached for the doorknob, a very odd sound stopped her in her tracks.  
It had come from inside the study, that she was sure of, and it sounded almost like a... moan. A feminine one. She pressed her ear to the door with furrowed brows and then heard it again. Her eyes widened, and then she heard a distinctly more male groan. She grimaced and hoped to God that it was not Draco's wife in there - or even worse, possibly, his mother - and was in the process of backing away from the door when she heard the female voice say, "Come on, Phoenix, let's go upstairs, this desk is making my bum sore."

Hermione cursed and quickly used Draco's wand to cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself, and she became invisible just as Astoria Malfoy came stumbling half-naked out of Draco's study, dragging a shirtless Phoenix Hart with her, and Hermione's unseeable jaw dropped.

Once the pair had safely scampered away, Hermione managed to remember why she was here, and walked into the study to find the file Draco needed. True to her luck, the file ended up being under a thong apparently discarded very recently by Astoria, and she levitated the scrap of fabric with Draco's wand to avoid touching it before quickly snatching the file from the desk and hurrying out of there.

On her way back to the dining room, she very briefly considered pretending that she hadn't seen anything and not breathing a word of this to Draco, but she knew that this would prove nearly impossible for her. Plus, her face was burning scarlet, and Draco would want to know why, and probably not let her get back to work until she told him.

It was unavoidable.

She lifted the Disillusionment Charm from herself just before she Flooed back to Draco's office, and when she stepped out of his fireplace, her stomach twisted with dread for the second time that day.

Draco didn't look up from his desk until she placed the file down in front of him. He glanced at it and then looked up at her. "Thanks. My wand?"

She handed the wand over, opening her mouth to speak but forming no words, and it was a moment before Draco looked up and noticed her discomfort. "What's the matter?"

"Er..."

Draco raised his eyebrows at her.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this," she said finally, and he closed and opened his eyes slowly.

"Come on, out with it."

"Your wife - well, she was in your study, and..." she trailed off as she watched Draco's eyes change, though she wasn't sure what the change meant. "And, Phoenix Hart was in there too, and... what I'm saying is, she's having an affair."

Instantly, he shot to his feet, limp be damned. "What?"

She looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry - I was kind of shocked -"

"What did you see?" he asked, silver eyes darkening to gray.

"Well, at first I heard them," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "And then I cast a Disillusionment Charm on myself because they were about to leave the room, and I saw them running upstairs together. Half naked."

"Phoenix Hart?" he asked in a strained voice. Hermione took note of a vein in his neck that was starting to bulge. "You're sure it was him?"

She nodded. "Positive."

Draco was off in a flash, wand out as he stormed towards the fireplace. Hermione thought about going after him, a bit afraid for Phoenix's life after seeing that vein nearly bursting out of Draco's neck, but she already knew it would be futile to try to hold him back, and there was no way she was following him back into his house.

Phoenix was on his own.

* * *

Draco stepped out of the fireplace in his dining room and headed upstairs quietly but quickly, not wanting to give either his wife or Phoenix the chance to escape. It never crossed his mind how hypocritical it was for him to be so outraged that his wife had done exactly the same as he'd done on countless occasions, nor did it cross his mind to take this into account before blowing up and possibly pummeling Phoenix into an early grave. It didn't matter what he'd done before. He'd never brought a woman here to the house he shared with his wife, and for her fling of choice to be Phoenix, whom she knew he despised possibly even more than Potter - this was calculated.

He crept into the hallway where their bedroom sat, and when he reached the door, pressed his ear into it. Sure enough, he heard his wife's girlish moaning, as well as some deep-throated groaning from Phoenix that made him want to kick the man's teeth out.

Draco took a deep breath, and imagined the door was Phoenix's face, then blasted it off it's hinges with his wand.

Astoria and Phoenix both yelped and quickly covered themselves with the bedsheets as he stormed in the room. Curiously, however, Astoria's shocked expression quickly gave way to a smug, satisfied one, and it was then Draco knew that the whole point of this was for her to exact revenge upon him.

Phoenix was reaching for his pants on the floor when Draco turned his eyes as well as his wand on him. "_Incarcerous_."

Draco's voice was calm, but the rest of him was anything but as ropes appeared out of thin air and bound Phoenix to where he was as well as gagged him for good measure. Astoria piped up. "Not so fun when you're on the other side is it, darling?"

Draco glared at her as he strode towards the bed.. "How very Pansy of you. Your stupid sister would be proud as well." He then turned back to Phoenix and punched him in the face.

"I know we're over," she said, "but I wanted you to have a taste of the hell you've put me through."

"With this scum?" Draco asked, looking down at the man in his bed as if he were something revolting.

"I chose him because I know how you hate him," she grinned.

Draco snarled and dragged Phoenix off the bed and tossed him to the floor, finding his muffled squeaks of pain highly satisfying. He turned his wand to Phoenix's discarded trousers and underwear and set fire to them with his wand, not caring if he burned a hole in his very expensive carpet in the process. He then turned to Astoria. "I want you out by 8 o'clock tonight."

"I'll be out by four," she snapped. "I wish I'd left three years ago."

"Not as badly as I do," Draco retorted before landing a kick to Phoenix's groin. The force of it somehow knocked the rope out of the groaning man's mouth, and he coughed and sputtered. "Stop, Draco, bloody hell, you've made your point -"

"Have I?" Draco snarled before connecting his foot to Phoenix's face. "I really don't think I have!"

A clothed Astoria then appeared, casting a shield over Phoenix. "Enough, Draco."

Draco flicked his wand and destroyed her shield effortlessly. She gasped and her eyes grew wide, her hand falling as Draco turned his wand to Phoenix and levitated him, taking him out of the room and to the nearest Floo connection, which was down the hallway in the second floor sitting room, and he tossed Phoenix into the fireplace with a flick of his wand, calling out "Diagon Alley" as he did so. Public humiliation was second best to physically killing him.

He turned around and found Astoria with her arms crossed. "Was that really necessary?"

"Get out of my sight," Draco seethed, moving to walk past her, but she stood stubbornly in his way.

"You're such a hypocrite," she said, shaking her head. "You cheat on me with half the female wizarding population, even with mudbloods, and -"

"Excuse me?"  
"You heard me. _Mudbloods_," she repeated. "You must think I'm stupid. I saw the way the Granger girl was looking at you in that bookshop. And then you just happen to give her a job the same night. Does she know she's just one of many girls you've shagged behind my back? Though admittedly, she's by far the filthiest one, I'm sure..."

Draco didn't understand why he suddenly felt even more violent now from hearing these words, and the worst part of it was that he had nobody to take it out on. He felt a twinge of regret for sending Phoenix away, wishing he was still around to be a punching bag. "Just shut up."

"Why? Does the truth hurt?"

"No, but looking at your face does," he admitted.

"Good. Because I've hurt every day since you started shagging anything that walks. I wanted you to understand."

He clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on his wand. Yeah, he deserved this and more, he wouldn't dispute that. He looked at the woman before him, her hands trembling and blue eyes watery behind the blazing anger that clouded them, and in his mind he suddenly recalled their wedding five years ago.

She'd been a beautiful, mostly innocent bride, and they'd fancied each other as much as any couple of newlyweds ever did. He hadn't thought twice about marrying her, because there were no better prospects for him, and she had everything it took to be a proper Malfoy wife. Their wedding had been grand and orchestrated almost entirely by Narcissa, and he thought he'd been happy at the time, but now looking back, he wasn't sure anymore. He couldn't honestly tell if either him or Astoria had ever been truly happy together.

But she deserved better than what he'd done to her. Much, much, better. Infinitely better. He'd failed her, his family, and himself. He couldn't hide from the truth anymore.

He turned away from Astoria and hurled himself inside the the fireplace, not sure if he could bear to look at his wife one more minute, and within seconds he was back inside his office. When he stepped out of the flames he looked up and found Hermione, pacing nervously before she saw him enter, and when their eyes locked, his already unpleasantly reawakened emotions increased twofold.

"Are you okay?" she asked tentatively, her eyes wide.

He wandered to the leather couch that sat to his left and fell on it, feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. Until this moment, he hadn't realized how much of himself he had turned off and buried for the last year, how dead he'd been on the inside. All of the guilt and the shame that he'd felt the first time he ever cheated came flooding back full force, increased exponentially, bursting through the dam of numbness that he'd built, and tears stung his eyes.

Hermione sat down beside him, her expression highly concerned, and she spoke once more. "Draco?"

The sound of his name cut through the haze, and he looked up into her big brown eyes. "Say something," she pleaded, starting to get a little frightened.

"It's over," he said in a blank voice.

She expected that. "What did you do?"

"Beat up Phoenix some and then sent him to Diagon Alley naked and bound in ropes."

Hermione's mouth dropped open a little. "Are you serious?"

"I don't know who I am anymore," Draco said, still in a blank monotone, staring forward at nothing.

Her eyebrows furrowed a little. "Draco..."

"I know what I did to her," Draco said, his voice now shaking a little. "I know what an idiot I've been. I just blocked it out and pretended I wasn't doing anything wrong, and now I feel like I'm about to bloody explode because I feel - I feel everything, and -"

Hermione placed her hand over one of his, watching as his eyes started shimmering with tears that she wasn't sure he would shed in front of her. She could hardly believe he was spilling his guts to her the way that he was.

"My mother slapped me today," he continued, "and I deserved it. I've disappointed her again, and all I ever do is disappoint her. I destroy everything I touch."

"That's not true," she said gently. "The company -"

"Who cares about the company?" he snapped. "Every person who's ever meant anything to me I've hurt because I can't seem to help being a complete and utter worthless prat. It's a good thing Astoria never fell pregnant, I would have just screwed the kid up."

"Listen," Hermione said, "I won't pretend that you haven't made some rather horrible decisions, and yes, you've been stupid - but so have a lot of people. You aren't the first to make these mistakes. There's no point in flogging yourself over it, because you can't go back in time and change it. All you can do is learn, and never do it again."

He snorted. "Yeah, that won't be a problem. Astoria was the only witch crazy enough to actually be in a relationship with me."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Hermione said, and she instantly regretted the words as soon as they came out. Just like she knew he would, Draco looked up to her once more, and she quickly added, "I didn't mean - I don't mean me, but in general - "

He nodded quickly. Of course - he'd been foolish to see a double meaning in her words. She'd made it quite clear only the night before that she only wanted their relationship to be professional. "I understand. You don't have to sit here and listen to this. You can get back to your work if you want."

Curiously enough, she didn't want to leave. "It's all right. I think you need a friend right now."

He held back another snort. "Unfortunately, I ran out of friends six years ago."

She paused. "You have me."

His silver eyes fell upon her once more. "I wasn't aware that we were friends."

"Well, if you'd rather not be -"

"No," he said quickly. "that's not what I meant. I just - I don't know."

She nodded, understanding what he meant. What they were wasn't clear, having gone from enemies to lovers and then now to colleagues who apparently occasionally shagged, but surely they could be mature enough to be friends. "Well - I'm here if you'd like someone to talk to. I'm sure I'm not your first choice, but be that as it may..."

Draco rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. Even now, in the midst of his most unwelcome emotional turmoil, the things he wanted to do with her didn't involve a lot of talking. Actually, the thought of feeling her skin on his, of working up a sweat and losing himself in her for awhile, was sorely tempting. He didn't like bearing the brunt of having his emotions suddenly flipped back on like a switch, and nothing else in the world allowed him as efficient and pleasant of an escape as she did.

But their conversation from last night stopped him from making a move. There was also a small voice in his head that told him that the idea of shagging to ease the guilt caused by his extramarital shagging seemed a bit counterproductive.

She patted his hand. "I think you'll find divorce to be somewhat of a relief."

"Perhaps," he muttered. "Is that how it is for you?"

"The more time I have to think about it, yes," she admitted. "I was comfortable with Ron, not happy. Now that the shock's worn off, I can see that now."

He leaned back into the couch, but made no move to untangle their hands. He rested his head against two fingertips and said, "I should have ended it the first time I cheated. I don't know why I didn't. If I loved her at all, that's what I would have done."

Hermione frowned, not knowing what to say, and was surprised when he continued. "It was really stupid, that first time. It was last year and things were getting really bad. She'd thrown one of her little dinner parties and spent the entire night flirting with Phoenix."

"Phoenix?"

Draco nodded. "It was because of a fight we'd had that day. She was just trying to piss me off. But I overreacted and left in the middle of her party and ended up at a bar... I met this witch and it just... happened."

"At the bar?" Hermione asked, not really wanting to know but unable to take back her question.

"I'm not proud of it," he muttered, hoping that was a sufficient answer. "I just about threw up afterwards. You must understand, I wasn't raised to be a husband who has mistresses and ignores their vows - for all their faults, that's something my parents ingrained into me my whole life, to be faithful. My father may have been horrible to everyone else in the world, but he treated my mother like a queen. I swore I'd never do it again, but the next time we had another bad fight, I did the same thing. And I just slowly lost control."

It was hard to feel sympathy for a man who had two-timed his wife more times than he could count, but Hermione found herself disarmed by his honesty. It was the first conversation they'd had that was devoid of any taunting, teasing, or innuendo, and it was almost unnerving. She had been one of those women he had "lost control" with, and as early as yesterday, no less - just what was she supposed to say?

"But she knew," Hermione finally said. "She could have left, too."

Draco shook his head. "She felt trapped. She can't have children, and you know what happens to pureblood women who can't produce heirs, if they get divorced."

"Oh - I didn't know," Hermione said a bit uncomfortably.

"Well - it's a guess on my part, really, but she's refused to see healers and in the five years we've been together she hasn't become pregnant once. I knew she wouldn't leave because of it. I took advantage of that fact."

"I'm sorry for any part I've played in this," Hermione said, looking down to her feet.

Draco looked at her and furrowed his brows. "What?"

She shrugged, but said nothing.

"You didn't play any part, Granger," he said. "It must be exhausting always trying to find a way to blame yourself for everything under the bloody sun."

"I'm not blaming myself," she said. "I just wish things were different."

_Who doesn't_, Draco wondered. They sat in silence for a few moments, until an owl smacked into the huge window behind Draco's desk and caused them both to jump in fright. With a groan, Draco got up and let the owl in, and Hermione checked the time. She simply had to get back to her office. She'd be staying until nightfall if she didn't.

Draco quickly read the letter that he'd plucked from the owl and then tossed it on his desk, deeming it unimportant. When he turned, Hermione was on her feet, looking uncertain. "I'd better get back to work."

He nodded. "Thanks for listening."

She nodded in return, raising her eyes to meet his. They were still watery, and they bore none of the pride and haughtiness that they usually did. His body language was different, too - tense and slightly slouched, free of his usual swagger for once in his life. He didn't look right without it.

Maybe it was because she felt for him, or maybe it was because she knew that nobody else would do this for him, but whatever the reason, she closed the gap between them and hugged him. His arms hung at his side for a moment before they snaked around her, returning her gentle pressure as he savored the strange feeling of being properly hugged. He hadn't expected this, and he didn't think she had either, but surprisingly, the simple gesture helped just a little bit.

When she pulled away, there was a moment when their eyes locked, and the opportunity arose for things to escalate. Draco had gone only so far as to flicker his eyes down to her pink, shapely lips before she withdrew her arms completely and stepped back

"I'll see you later," she said before turning and disappearing into the hallway.  
He didn't expect to feel as empty as he did once she'd gone. He thought he'd already faced the worst of his awakened emotions, but now was when they truly reared their ugly heads, as if they had waited until he was alone to fill him with the astounding amount of shame and anger that he'd been carrying for so long but had refused to acknowledge. He sat down behind his desk and placed his face in the palm of his hands, and for the first time since the war, he allowed himself to cry.


	11. Grey, Cloudy Puffs Of Smoke

**A/N: Eek, sorry for the late update. I've officially overextended myself with three stories, plus I've been sick, busy with family, AND planning my vow renewal which happens in ten days. Ack! Thank you for your amazing reviews, follows & faves!**

Hermione moved into a new flat within the next two weeks, to her great relief. It was small but in a nice, private neighborhood that contained both muggles and wizards, and most importantly, it provided a safe haven from the judgement she faced in Harry's home.

She and Ginny still hadn't spoken since their fight, but Ginny had clearly been busy talking to others - Hermione had received nasty Howlers from Molly and several owls from Ron, the latter of which she'd chosen to ignore. The only thing Hermione could think to be grateful for was the fact that at least none of the Weasleys had decided to go to the _Prophet_ to defame her, not that she thought they would. They might be angry, but they weren't evil.

On the work front, things were going as smoothly as ever, but Draco had barely spoken two words to her since the day Astoria left him. It was awkward but sort of a relief as well, because she was safe from having to deal with any of the tension between them as long as they stayed away from each other. Not that she was any closer to acknowledging the tension than she was before.

She was doing a bit of tidying up around her new place one early Monday morning before heading to work when she came across an unopened box of feminine hygiene products that were stashed under her bathroom sink. She moved the box aside and retrieved the bottle of bathroom cleaner that she'd been looking for, but then her eyes narrowed and she froze.

She lowered herself to her knees with the bottle in her hand and rapidly started counting in her head. She did the math five times but each time came to same horrible conclusion - she was three days late. And she was _never_ late.

When she got to her feet, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror and found her face to be as pale as a ghost and as terrified as a Muggle who'd just seen one. Her heart was pounding and her mind was racing with the knowledge that there had been no contraception charm performed during her last encounter with Draco, and she nearly screamed when a flock of owls suddenly smacked into her front door down the hallway.

Still in shock, Hermione walked out of the bathroom and saw that her windows were positively filled with owls trying to get in, and with furrowed brows she walked to the front door and opened it.

All of the owls swooped over her head and began dropping letters all over her floor, and when she looked outside to see yet more birds flying her way, that morning's edition of the Prophet caught her attention just off of her doorstep. She picked up the paper with already shaking hands and read the headline in horror.

**ASTORIA MALFOY BREAKS HER SILENCE: "DRACO CHEATED ON ME WITH HERMIONE GRANGER!"**

**The shocking truth about the divorce that's rocking wizarding society!**

Astoria's face stared sadly at Hermione from the newspaper, her photo underneath the headline showing her crying and wiping her tears. Even without knowing the woman, Hermione could tell she was astoundingly fake, but now her brain was even more panicked than it was moments before.

This couldn't be happening. It was too much for one morning. Just one of the two crises she was facing were too much on their own, but now as she watched letters flying into her house from only God knew who while her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of carrying Draco's child within her, it all came to a head and she felt her breakfast rising in her throat.

It took all of her willpower and strength, but she swallowed hard and slammed her door closed behind her, and Apparated to work.

When she appeared on the sidewalk, she found herself instantly surrounded by photographers screaming questions at her and closing in at an alarmingly quick rate. She quickly felt small hands on her, and there was a bang that sent the photographers flying backwards.

"Bloody dogs!" Hyacinth screeched as she dragged Hermione to safety inside the building and quickly reset the wards guarding the building with some wandwork as she continued to curse.

"Thank you," Hermione breathed, surprised to be on the receiving end of kindness of the usually icy Hyacinth. Then Draco's voice averted her attention.

"Is she here yet? Is she -"

Draco had all but ran down the stairs, and when their eyes locked, Hyacinth rolled her eyes and shuffled off to her desk.

"I've already released a statement denying it," Draco said, catching his breath.

Hermione nodded, her insides twisting into an excruciating knot. At this particular moment, her PR issues were the last of her worries. She needed to get alone, quickly, to perform a spell that would tell her if she was indeed pregnant or not, because she could barely stand to look at Draco at the moment. She had to know the truth, one way or the other.

"All right," she said, "but I need to -"

"Come on," he cut her off, grabbing her wrist and dragging her upstairs and towards the lift. "We're going to need to spend the day doing damage control."

"But-"

"Hopefully this will go away and people will see her for the fake that she is," he continued grumbling obliviously, halfway up the lift before he finally let go of her wrist. "The gall of that woman... I was afraid she'd do something like this."

Hermione sighed helplessly and tried to focus on one problem at a time. The test spell would have to wait until later, when she could sneak off to a bathroom. They stepped off the lift and walked into the room where board meetings were usually held, and it was full of bustling employees and several board members, including Narcissa, who were all bunkered down and either arguing with one another or furiously writing letters.

Hermione sat down next to Draco when he took a seat, her mind nowhere near work and still racing to the point of making her almost dizzy.

* * *

It was nearly time for lunch when Hermione managed to break away from the room and head towards the nearest bathroom. She'd released a statement of her own (carefully worded so that she was not lying to the public but merely asking for privacy and respect, which she knew she would not receive) and sent a plethora of owls while ignoring the calls from others in the room for her resignation. Draco had made it clear he would not accept a resignation even if she turned one in, and Narcissa had hushed up those who kept harping on the issue with a Tongue-Tying charm. The older witch had barely looked at Hermione the whole morning, but she was grateful for the support all the same.

Still, resignation was a tempting thought as she wound around the hallways in pursuit of the loo, though her thoughts were soon interrupted by a woman's voice. "Miss Granger?"

She stopped only feet away from her destination and found Narcissa striding towards her down the corridor.

"Forgive me, Miss Granger, but I wondered if I could have a quick word."

"Oh - of course, Madam Malfoy," Hermione said quickly, the knot in her stomach tightening again.

Only a few feet separated the women as they faced one another in the hall. "Thank you. First of all, I've long owed you an apology. I'm sorry that it's taken me so long, but I wasn't sure how well it would be received, and -"

"Oh, really, you don't have to do this," Hermione said. "I understand."

"I appreciate your graciousness, but I do have to do this. My greatest regret in life is aligning myself with the side I was raised to serve and allowing so many terrible things to happen. I won't ask for your forgiveness because it would be audacious of me to even think I should deserve it, but I apologize for the terrible things you endured in my house during the war."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you. I know you and Draco have changed, and that's all that matters now. Without you we may not have won the war."

"That is very generous of you," Narcissa nodded. "I would also like you to know you have my full support within the company."

Now Hermione shifted a little bit uncomfortably. "Thank you."

"Astoria's dragged your name into the mud to try to gain the public's sympathy, but it's not an act she will be able to carry on for very long. And I have more than enough blackmail on the Greengrass family to put an end to her slander."

"At this point, I'm rather used to the hounding and the rumors, so I'm not really worried," Hermione lied.

Narcissa sighed and held her hands behind her back. "If you would like some time off, or to work from home for a bit while the dust settles, I'll personally arrange it."

"That's all right," Hermione shrugged, "but thank you. I think it'll do good to stay as busy as I possibly can, however."

Narcissa smiled a little. "You remind me a bit of myself. I've never been one to hide either."

Hermione returned Narcissa's smile to he polite, but she wasn't sure what to think at the moment. There was too much that was weird about this conversation, not the least of which was that she was dying to retreat into the bathroom to find out if this woman's son had knocked her up.

"All right, I'll get back to work now. Thank you for listening, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

Then Narcissa turned around with another tight smile and Hermione all but ran into the bathroom with a sigh of relief.

She flung herself into a stall and hastily took out her wand from her pocket, but when she raised it and opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out.

She drew in a deep breath and tried again. Still nothing.

She was getting very frustrated very quickly, and she suddenly found herself on the verge of tears. The truth was, she didn't want to know the truth right now, because that would make it far too real if she was indeed pregnant. The girl who had spent her entire life being the bravest of her age now felt more like a frightened kitten than a Gryffindor lion, and any hope of getting anywhere vanished when she heard the door open and several chatting women walked inside.

She gave up and exited the stall, stomping out of the bathroom and smacking into Draco as soon as she stepped out into the corridor.

"Granger," he said after she squeaked in surprise. "Can I talk to you?"

She threw up her hands in exasperation and he gave her an odd look before leading her into a small empty office a few doors down. He lit a dim lamp with his wand at the center of the office before closing the door and turning to her. "Are you all right?"

She almost laughed, but he wouldn't understand the humor. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"What do you want me to say?" she snapped. "Now everyone's only going to hate me more than they already do, so it really doesn't matter. I'm used to it by now."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ginny found out about us the night you got splinched and she hasn't spoken to me since," Hermione sighed. "I'm getting Howlers from Molly every day and the only one who doesn't think I'm scum is Harry. But that's probably only because they're the only ones that knew until today."

Draco didn't say anything, and after she almost ripped out her hair by shoving it roughly behind her ears, she looked up into his eyes. She suddenly could see as clear as day in her mind the image of a small boy with pale blonde hair and warm brown eyes, or a little girl with curly dark chestnut hair and mischievous silver eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and he seemed to misinterpret her discomfort and anxiety at the visions in her head as something else entirely, and he stepped forward and kissed her.

The kiss caught her off guard, and her instinct was to fight it, but his hands found her waist and the knot that was wound so tightly deep in her gut loosened just a little bit at his touch. Her heart skipped several beats, like it always did when he kissed her, and when his tongue slipped gently between her lips, she wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed the momentary distraction to happen.

When he pulled away, his eyebrows were furrowed and he looked down into her eyes as he said, "It's my fault."

She shook her head. "It's not."

A slim finger tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It'll blow over. My mother's already owled the Greengrasses with a threat that should end things."

Hermione nodded, and then Draco's eyes moved to her neck . His lips followed soon thereafter, and as shivers shot up and down her spine, she clutched his shoulder and blurted out something that seemed to fly out of her mouth of its own accord. "I might be pregnant."

He froze and she immediately began cursing herself loudly in her head, glancing up at him cautiously after he slowly raised his head from her neck.

She saw a lot of things in his eyes, but the most obvious was fear. She knew she reflected his fear in her eyes as well, and they simply stared at each other until the office door suddenly flew open.

They quickly withdrew their arms from one another and looked up to find Hyacinth in the doorway, an especially sour look on her face.

"What do you want?" Draco spat angrily.

"Thought you should know the reporter from the _Prophet_'s here for the interview you scheduled," she muttered before walking away, calling Draco a few choice names under her breath as she did.

Draco looked again at Hermione, who now looked like she might cry or throw up - or both.

"Go," Hermione said shakily. "We'll talk later."

But later came very late, after a day filled with owls, statements and a highly concerned Harry Potter showing up to hover around Hermione for about an hour to make sure she was okay. Meanwhile, she and Draco shared looks throughout the day that spoke volumes about the anxiety that the other was feeling, and when eight o'clock at night finally rolled around, Draco found her trying to quietly slip out of the building and Apparate home.

She was at the doors when his voice rang out. "Granger."

She sighed but didn't let go of the door handle. "I'm going home."

"We need to talk."

She turned to face him. "I'm not talking about this here."

"Then we'll talk about it at your place."

She could see by the stubborn glint in his eye that there was no point arguing. She cast Disillusionment Charms on each of them, in case anyone was hiding out in hopes of snapping pictures of them together, then opened the door and walked out into the cool air. She stopped at the Apparition point about five steps from the door and only had to wait a few seconds before Draco's hand found hers, and then they vanished with a _crack_.

They appeared in front of Hermione's front door, and with a wave of her wand it unlocked and she pushed the door open. Draco followed and closed the door for her, eyes widening when he saw the huge piles of unopened mail that littered her floor. "What the bloody -"

She lifted the Disillusionment Charms, shed her coat, and then turned to him. "Well? You said you wanted to talk."

He watched as she flopped down on her couch and crossed her arms. He walked slowly to the couch, feeling highly nervous as he sat beside her, unsure of how to proceed. After a long moment of silence he finally said, "You said you 'might' -"

"Yes, _might_," she said quietly. "I haven't done the spell to find out yet."

"Well - can you?" he asked a little desperately.

"You'll have to do it," she said. "I tried and I can't get the words out."

He looked at her for a moment, wishing he had bothered to learn Legilimency at some point so that he could know what was going on inside of her head. He could only assume the thought of being pregnant with his child was so repugnant to her that she would rather not even find out one way or another.

Without a word, Draco withdrew his wand and pointed it towards Hermione's midsection. He'd done this before with Astoria many times, and in fact, the last time he'd performed the spell it had been only two months ago. He spoke a few foreign-sounding words and a silver light appeared and entwined around Hermione's waist, swirling and twirling in a ribbon that would turn blue in a moment if she was indeed pregnant, or turn to smoke if she wasn't.

As they waited, Hermione tried imagine what she would do if the ribbon turned blue. She'd wanted a baby for so long, but never in a situation like this. It was all wrong, overly complicated and a recipe for disaster, but once again, a vision burst forth in her head of what their child would look like. This time, however, she imagined an infant instead of a small child, and her heart thumped in her chest.

After the years she spent trying to become pregnant with Ron's child, could she really be carrying a tiny little son or daughter of Draco's in her womb? Could it have really happened that fast, after years of trying and failing with someone else?

For the first time that day, warmth replaced the cold fear that had been holding on to her with an iron grip. No, this wasn't ideal, and yes, it would undoubtedly be a bit of a disaster, but if she really was going to have a baby, then how bad could it really be? It was a _baby_. She'd wanted one for so long, and she knew that if the ribbon turned blue, the little child inside of her would instantly own her heart.

She looked over at Draco, whose eyes were fixed on the light until he realized she was watching him, and at the moment their eyes met, the ribbon turned to smoke.

Grey, cloudy puffs of smoke. Hermione wasn't pregnant.

Hermione didn't breathe a sigh of relief like she thought she would have. Instead, as she watched the smoke disappear, she felt strange and... empty. Empty like she'd felt since she and Ron imploded, emptier since Ginny had shunned her, and now possibly the emptiest she'd ever felt.

Everything good she'd once had - friends, a family who embraced her, a career at the Ministry - all of it had turned to smoke, and all for stupid reasons. In a split second, she'd caught a glimpse of a different life, a new life, and it didn't matter that it would have been difficult and nearly impossible, because it would have brought her love. Real, incorruptible love. The love that she'd longed to give to a baby for years but never got to. Love that wouldn't leave her or disappoint her. Love that she had an abundance of in her heart and nobody to give it to.

"Granger?"

She hadn't realized there was a tear spilling down her cheek until Draco said her name. She instantly felt extremely foolish - how had she gone from terrified to terribly disappointed in mere moments? She should be feeling celebratory, not bereft.

She wiped away the tear and stood up from the couch. "You can go."

"But -"

"Just go," she said, shaking her head and heading to her kitchen. She began robotically putting on a pot of tea, fighting the urge to cry more and feeling her anger rise when she saw Draco standing in the doorway, watching her almost a bit fearfully.

"What are you looking at?" she snapped, slamming down her tea kettle on the stovetop. "I told you to go."

"What did I do?" Draco asked, looking bewildered.

She rolled her eyes. "Not everything revolves around you."

Hermione reached up into a cabinet to retrieve a box of tea bags and ended up knocking over a canister of oatmeal, the lid to which popped off when it hit the floor, inevitably causing the contents to spill across the floor.

Hermione cursed and closed the cabinet with a great whack, and before she could protest, Draco was behind her, pulling her to him and holding her arms still.

"Let me go-"

"Calm down-"

"Just leave, I want to be alone-"

"Would you bloody stop?"

Draco managed to turn her around while still holding on to her wrists, and when their eyes met, he saw fresh tears swimming in her eyes.

"I'm an idiot," she muttered, ceasing her resistance.

He furrowed his brows. "Did - did you _want_ to be pregnant?"

"I don't know," she replied truthfully. "I just thought - oh never mind what I thought, it was stupid."

Draco let go of her wrists, and was surprised when she suddenly blurted out, "But don't you think it's a bit pathetic that after all this time, I'm in the process of getting divorced, living alone and working for someone who used to wish me dead?"

Any other time, Draco may have found a reason to be offended, but he merely kept listening. "I'm not going anywhere. I've lost my closest friends, besides Harry, and now I have to deal with getting hate mail every day from people who think I'm some slut who wrecked your marriage and probably cheated on Ron with you."

She drew in a breath and continued. "Meanwhile, Ron gets to skip off into the sunset with Hannah Abbot, looking like the good guy just like I'm sure he wanted. He's owled me every day for the last two weeks, and I don't know why he thinks I want to hear anything he has to say, and -"

"You surely must see how ridiculous it is for you to call your life pathetic when you compare it to mine," Draco interrupted her.

"No," she argued, "because you're owner of one of the wealthiest companies in our world, and at least despite everything else, you have that to fall back on."

Draco glanced off across the room and said, "I never used to think I would ever say this, but none of that really matters. You know that just as well. Money and power - none of it matters when you're going home alone every night."

The odd display of honesty proved to be a bit disarming. Hermione fell quiet and the sound of the tea kettle whistling eventually cut through the silence, and she turned her back to Draco as she grabbed the kettle and poured the boiling water into a mug. Before she turned back around, she quietly asked, "Why did you kiss me earlier?"

She thought she heard a small snort in response. "Why do you think, Granger?"

Hermione turned and looked up into his eyes. "I meant what I said before. And after today, I think we both know it needs to be over."

"Are you referring to the _Daily Prophet_ or to the - er - the scare?"

"Both," Hermione shrugged.

Draco paused and then ran a hand through his hair, running his eyes around the room before he finally spoke. "You said something before - you asked me if I would want a relationship with you if I left my wife."

Hermione furrowed her brows. "Yes?"

"Well - what if I told you that I did?"

Hermione stared at him for a moment before closing her eyes and shaking her head slightly. "Are you serious?"

"No, I'm lying," he rolled his eyes. "Yes I'm serious."

"But... why?"

"I don't know - I like you, and I can't go five minutes without thinking about you," he blurted, visibly uncomfortable at saying this. "Why not?"

"Why _not_?" she repeated. "Do I need to list all of the reasons why not?"

"Who cares?" he retorted. "Haven't we both spent the last five years doing what made sense and what everyone said we should? Where did that get you? Where did that get me?"

"This is mad," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"I don't care anymore," he said honestly. "I really don't. I don't care what anyone has to say. I want what I want."

Hermione wasn't sure she could believe what her ears were hearing. She opened her mouth but nothing came out, and as she struggled to find words, Draco quickly closed the distance between them and kissed her.

It wasn't a long kiss, but it lasted just enough to take Hermione's breath away and leave her even more confused than she already was. When Draco pulled away, he muttered, "I'll see you tomorrow."

She watched as he strode away, her mind a flood of swirling, exhausting thoughts as he walked out of her front door and vanished with a loud _pop_.

Old habits die hard, and Hermione suddenly wanted nothing more than to be able to sit down with Ginny and recount her entire hellacious day to the younger girl, but that was out of the question. She didn't want to bother Harry, either, so she stalked off to bed, abandoning her tea in favor of throwing herself on to her bed to stare blankly at the ceiling and drown in her thoughts.

Her mouth still tingled from Draco's kiss, and she realized that for that brief moment where their lips met, she hadn't felt so empty. But now the emptiness was back at full force, and somehow amplified in her solitude.

When she managed to fall asleep very late that night, she dreamed of the children she'd imagined as well as the man who would have been their father. It began as a surreal but pleasant dream, though it quickly descended into chaos with the introduction of a screaming Ginny, relentless reporters, and flocks of owls carrying Howlers into her home. When the dream got to the point where Harry turned against her and began screaming the way Ginny had, Hermione awoke with a start and didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

The dream had been ridiculous, but it still left her feeling extremely on edge. Against her better judgement, she found herself wishing that a certain man was lying next to her as she forced her eyes closed and tried in vain to fall asleep once more, wondering if he felt as utterly alone as she did tonight.


End file.
